Young Writers Society

...a pirates life for me... oh sorry wrong plot...

At this time in the evening, the town was mostly empty: a few others traversed the wintered ground, and the continuous heavy snowfall that clouded the dark air, but they were rare, and for the most part he travelled alone. But he had no need for company right now.

- This sentence(s) is a bit mullied. Rather - At this time in the evening, the town was mostly empty: only a few others traversed the wintered ground because of the continuous heavy snowfall that clouded the dark air; for the most part he travelled alone. He had no need for company right now. - or something like that.

The weather just mimicked to the coldness of his emotions, the deadness of his soul. The emptiness. It had been five months since the accident and he still hadn’t forgiven himself.

- Lovely.

A sudden wind sharpened the edge of the storm, and it threw a blizzard into Robert’s face.

- small nitpick; the rather than a before blizzard

The future seemed a bleak place to walk into, just like the rest of the street that was masked in darkness and swirling snow particles. There was no favourable wind, nor the superstitious luck every sailor wished for. It was either the storm or the just as terrifying calm, where there was no one there for him. There’s nobody here for me now.

- love the analogies...though I agree with Mesh, the last sentence could be cut.

The vicar, who had known her, said Catherine was a beautiful creation that would be missed by all. It was impossible, thought Robert, to describe what she was in words. Only those who had seen her smile even when everything fell apart could possibly comprehend how special she truly was. He still hadn’t wept then. It didn’t seem real. Robert felt like a man out of place, at the wrong funeral perhaps, like all the proceedings were a horrible fantasy that he was being forced to watch. Maybe the truth just hadn’t hit home. What was it his father used to say? Some fools don’t know what they’ve lost until they need to use it.

- I love this paragraph, quality stuff there, Jack.

he wanted her to come even when she refused. He had pushed too hard and she had fallen.

- I love the fact how you build up to what happened to Kate.

His expression turned glummer as his body felt colder, and he began to shiver continuously.

- I don't think anyone touched on this yet, is glummer even a proper word? I mean it works with the alliteration of the sentence, but...

He hadn’t even wept, when, after she was buried and the earth filled, the Vicar read a passage from the Bible and almost every other person there broke down in tears.

- a bit mullied, the first part. He had not wept, even when, after she was buried, the earth filled, and the Vicar's passage from the Bible read, almost every...

Only when everybody had left, and the Vicar whispered his condolences to Robert, and left him alone, with just the gravestone and the deserted cemetery for company did tears fall down his own cheeks.

- cleaning up the language: Only when everybody had left, and the Vicar whispered his condolences to Robert leaving him alone with just the gravestone and the deserted cementery for company, did tears fall down his own cheeks.

Only when there were no one to watch, no one to judge, would he show just how broken his spirit was.

- I agree with Mesh: Only when there was no one to watch, no one to judge, would he mourn.

Even when the bullets were flying, and the cannons firing, and the smoke rising, you were taught to act like nothing was wrong.

- cut down on the ands: bullets were flying, the cannons firing, and the smoke rising... I have this sudden flashback of Episode One of Hornblower, "I killed two, Horatio!"... and I'm not sure why.

Even when a man was cut brutally apart in front of you, blood and guts and all spilt half over you and half over the deck, you must show nonchalance. His love had been cut brutally apart from him, and his tears had wetted the grass.

a bit of sentence recasting here: over the deck, nonchalance must be shown. and the following sentence about his love being cut - that had me going - whaaat?

The wind had stayed a little, lulled, and he quickened his pace to take advantage.

- hmm... stayed a little, then lulled...

albeit it warmer, where the darkness meant the sea and the sky were blended.

- recasting: albeit warmer, where in the darkness sea and sky blended.

And she had fallen overboard.

- cure angry death nell, fire and brimstone music...

He had screamed and shouted until his voice was hoarse, but there were no replies. He had thrown himself into the water and swam until his skin was blue and his muscles torn. He had wept until his eyes hurt too much. But she had gone.

- I need a tissue.

The fire stuttered even as he nudged it with the poker.

- I love that sentence.

where the snowstorm had only thickened and hardened since he had left it

- recasting: had only thickened and hardened since he left it.

His old ship, Inflexible, that had me a laugh.

A pause, and a silence.

- Possibly: A pause, and then silence.

The familiar spirally writing, the black ink and the sudden realisation.

- recasting to either: the black ink, and then sudden realisation. or the black ink, the sudden realisation.

contrariness

- ick, bad wording, get rid of the ness. If I come up with something better, I'll send a line.

He was quite junior for a Lieutenant and didn’t expect to hold much seniority upon the Pegasus. That was how it always had been. How it always was. You might put your life on the line and die for His Majesty, but in the end you were just part of a process; a slow process, determined by time and luck, for if other officers didn’t die or change ships you were destined for little.

- So true, so true.

The storm from last night had finally calmed and left a blanket of white powder melting slowly and stubbornly on the streets and seafront.

- one less and would be nice: white powder melting slowly, stubbornly on the streets...

And where his father, over ten years ago, had left for America and never returned.

- The And at the beginning is superfluous. Nice little tidbit about the father.

To hell or high waiter, or wherever the sea would take him.

- Isn't that supposed to be - To hell or high water...? Hell or high waiter, kind of an interesting thought...

I think I caught everything that stood out. Another general nitpick, you seem to not have spaces between the names, ie. Mrs.Donovan should be Mrs. Donovan. Just a note.

I am super excited about the piece, and can't wait to see what happens to Robert, although I've gleemed some from your other short.

About the funeral, tis plausible it took 5 months. What with paperwork, pay and the like.

Totally with Crysi, I'll be in that line right behind her.

I hope the blue's not to hard to read.
Ciao CL.

Thanks, Cal, ultra-useful. Edited everyone's suggestions in now. Also, Truro has now changed to Torquay (it's not directly important) since Truro actually lies on a river *is embarrassed*. Still, not too much harm done. This is the first part of Chapter 2. More to come, soon, hopefully!

Chapter 2

*newer version, see below.*

JACK! You should know better than to post when I have a lot of work to do and I need to get to bed early! *laughs* You're really churning these chapters out, and they're good quality, too. Impressive. All right, let's see what I can do here...

As Robert exited the carriage after paying the driver, he grumbled over the long, delayed journey. Despite Torquay lying just about half a day’s journey from Plymouth, the stubbornness of the coachman had meant he was forced to stay a night in the quaint village of Ivybridge, below the harsh, but beautiful, moorlands of Dartmoor. Robert grudgingly admitted the place itself was ideal for a traveller’s stop, but had hoped to make it in one day to Plymouth, to impress his new Captain.

Good. I was a little confused by the "stubbornness of the coachman." I guess I'm not sure what he was stubborn about... Oh well. Oh, and I think you can take the commas out around "but beautiful" - it'll still work and won't add too many parts to the sentence.

He gave the coachman one last look of hatred, dropping onto the dusty street, and watched as a sailor grabbed his chest from the rear of the carriage to take down to the jetty.

“Care of the Cap’n, sir,” the seaman had said, saluting. An old hand, by the look of his grizzled expression but friendly demeanour. “Cox’n will want a word with you too, sir.” He followed the man’s eyes to a broad-shouldered, with an air of confidence about him.

I had a hard time picturing this - wouldn't it be hard to salute while holding a chest? If the timing's different, you might want to make that more clear. Also, did you mean to have a word after "broad-shouldered"? And who had the air of confidence about him, the seaman or, I assume, the "Cox'n"? If it's the latter, take out the comma after "broad-shouldered" (or whatever word you might add after that).

Robert nodded. “Thank you, err?”

Again, I had a hard time with this line... Maybe if you wrote it something like "Thank you, er...?" it would come out more obvious that he was asking for the man's name. Otherwise it reminds me of "To err is human..."

One of the boatmen. Robert smiled and took the scene in. The tall masts dominated the harbour, reaching upward toward the clouds. Robert knew that although the ships, which from this distance, looked small and inconsequential from this distance, would feel massive and invincible from up close. It was the ultimate deception. Ships were floating artillery batteries, which could dispense a horrifying amount of lead at one time. A few pendants fluttered in the light sea wind. Robert was always slightly in awe when he stood on a King’s Harbour, so he stood for a while taking it all in.

I love the descriptions here! I think you forgot to take something out while editing, though - "which from this distance, looked small and inconsequential from this distance," so I'd take out the first "from this distance," (including the comma) to help with flow and symmetry. Also, I'm not sure about the two contrasting sentences discussing the danger of the ships and then the pendants... I think they switch feelings too suddenly. You go from a threatening and intimidating description to an innocent, light description. Perhaps it would be better if you separated those sentences a little or put a neutral sentence between them... get what I'm saying?

A request wasn’t a request, Robert knew, just a direct order worded tactfully. “I suppose the gig is ready, then?”

I love this line!

It wasn’t a question of the Coxswain’s competence, rather an innocent question; Robert felt surprisingly uncomfortable in front of the man, whose unerring confidence made him feel small. Leigh stepped back and screwed his face up slightly.

Hmm... I didn't get the feeling the question could be taken as an insult, but perhaps if I knew more about the subject (and the role of the Coxswain - I'm unfamiliar with the term and the position) it would be clearer. I'll let you be the one to decide that.

“Third Lieutenant, sah!” shouted the marine, straightened his posture and banging his musket butt on the deck as if he were on drill parade.

Is this standard procedure for gaining entrance to speak with the captain? I could help thinking of, well, drill teams. But hey, if it's correct, go for it.

The great cabin door swung ominously open in front of Robert, revealing the luxurious, at least for a fighting ship, quarters of the ship’s commander, leader and God, for everything he said was law. Captain Robins sat behind his desk, scrawling some notes, but beckoned a hand for Robert to come forward. He was a small man, from what Robert could make out, with balding hair. Not the idealistic picture of a modern military commander. But from what he didn’t make up in size, he made up in presence. As soon as the Captain looked up, his eyes had a sudden alertness, strength behind them. Robert knew that it would do no good to fail a Captain with of stern a face like that.

I'm not sure how you feel about parentheses, but I would consider putting "at least for a fighting ship" in parentheses so it doesn't jumble the sentence so much. It's hard to fit everything into that sentence, but it's necessary. I really like your description of the captain and his aura of power. One tiny nit-pick - I'd change "like" to "as" in the last sentence. Just how I always say it; I'm not sure if your way is incorrect.

There was a silence. Robert’s mind was paralysed by a sudden memory that pierced the emotional broil, stirring since Robins had mentioned Saintes. The Battle of The Saintes. He remembered his Mother, usually so tough a woman, weeping and screaming like a possessed. He remembered being so young he didn’t know what was going on. Only that it was to do with his Father, because a man dressed in uniform had knocked on the door. Thrown to the present, he realised Robins was watching him. This is all just a test.

I really like the detailed flashback here. I'm not sure about the line "He remembered being so young he didn't know what was going on." I understand it, I'm just not sure I like how it's written... Maybe if you switch it around a little, "He remembered not knowing what was going on because of his youth" or something. I don't know. I think I'm just being picky again. Also, I really like how here he starts thinking to himself that it's a test. I do the same when I'm in a tough situation - usually I just remind myself to breathe or stay calm, and this is his way of doing it. Very nice.

“Nonsense!” Robins replied, keeping his glare unblinkingly on Robert, his eyes beaming down. “A Captain must use luck just as he uses any other tool of warfare. They say it was a sharpshooter that got him.”

I shivered when I read this part. Robert's trying to hard to impress the captain, and here it seems he's said the wrong thing. Thank you for not making Robert perfect! He's so realistic, and having him slip up here just adds to that.

And that was that. Without a further glance from the Captain, Robert stalked out of the cabin, feeling like he had lost some sort of game. He certainly hadn’t impressed. Within the space of two hours, he already felt like Pegasus would be a hard home. But there was nowhere else.

I like this ending... But I don't like the last line. Maybe add just a few words, like "But there was nowhere else for him now." I don't know. Again, I'm picky tonight.

This seemed to have a few more errors in it... I don't know if that's because you wrote it relatively quickly or if it's just the usual thing where people tend to make more mistakes as they get into the piece. Don't worry about it though - that's why you have people critique it. And it's still by far one of the best things I've read in a while.

I absolutely LOVE Robert Shaw. You've made him such a complex character and he's real from the start. I've never doubted his actions or words. You've done a great job with him. I really love reading his responses in the character question game thread... thing. You've given him such a strong, unique voice that it really stands out and makes him believable. I worship you, lol.

I have a feeling I'm going to get a little lost once we get onto the Pegasus, because then you can really show your knowledge of ships and I can really show my LACK of knowledge of ships, lol. But you're a good writer, so I'm sure you'll be able to pull it off without losing your audience.

I gotta type up a few more critiques and then get to bed, so I'll end my praise here. Well-done! Keep it up. Oh, and Mesh suggested I move in with you because I mentioned I'd love to be English. I said I wouldn't mind that as long as you kept writing this story. Don't worry, I'm staying in California... for now. Keep it up!

Crysi, you rock. I wouldn'd mind you living with me if you give me critiques like this every time! I'm glad you like Robert. I don't know too much about ships, so don't get worried. While on the ship it's not going to be all about what sail they're putting up each time, cos I know some people get lost in naval fiction like that. I'm going to concentrate on developing my characters

Thanks!

this was.......like the........blue buttock of voldermort, the god of love.

ps: this was great , it had an atmosphere that is rare and realistic, i could almost feel the weather , not because you said it was cold and frosty but cs you added the little details and what happened. great job.

I didn't particularly like how Chapter 2 had begun, so I totally revised the beginning. Here's the new version (for all who are interested):

Chapter 2

Frozen raindrops, like tear-shaped icicles, blurred the inn’s windows. The aromas of burning roasts and the sounds of ales hitting tables filled Robert’s senses. Between the other naval officers, possibly waiting for ships like him, and the ordinary town workers relaxing after a hard day’s work, Robert sat alone on a table, watching the condensation misting the glass, stroking with the edge of his emptied mug. He sighed gently, and fiddled with the buttons of his undress blue coat, his informal attire, and his working uniform. He was hoping to change into his full dress uniform before meeting the Captain, but had tallied drinking brandy and ale. Sitting unaccompanied before going to a new ship, a new home where’d he live until he died or was moved or transferred as the Admiralty saw fit, was ultimately frightening – and there was no there to experience it alongside. Better get used to it.

He’d had a message from a young midshipman that had been anticipating his arrival that Captain Robins was not yet on board, but expected to be there soon. The first Lieutenant was currently in command but Robert was not to make himself present until the Captain was there to greet him. To Robert, it felt like a pointless formality. So he was left to waste time in a paltry inn, drinking alone and simply waiting as the weather turned from snow to rain but his loneliness was left unaffected.

The inn door swung open, creaking at it’s hinge as a fleshy man with a rotund face walked cheerfully in. There was an incessant grin on his face, despite the weather, which had drenched his blue navy coat so it resembled a puddle, and battered his tricorne, which he duly removed from his head and wiped it down. He scanned the inn’s inhabitants, and fixed on Robert.

“Do I make the acquaintance of Lieutenant Robert Shaw, of His Britannic Majesty’s Royal Navy?” he said with a fervent pompousness.

Robert blinked, wondering if the officer always spoke thus. “Yes, that would be me. And you, sir?”

The man, if possible, grinned more. “Second Lieutenant William Jenkins-Hall, of the beautiful Pegasus, at your command, my good man.” He bowed, spiralling his tricorne downwards to be presented before Robert. His words, though dripping with grandiosity, seemed to be voiced with all seriousness. “I’m here to inform of you of the most recent developments.”

Robert simply nodded.

“Our most competent superior, Captain Robins, has arrived to take residence once more on the Pegasus and requests your presence on board immediately,” he said, without taking a breath, though his corpulent cheeks turned a pinkish red. “He wants to assess you,” he added, with a hushed voice, and then a childish giggle.

“Assess me?”

“Indeed. Our Captain is very much a believer in first impressions. So I’d get into full dress, though the rain might spoil your parade,” he replied, his smile fading for the first time when he glanced outside at the stormy downfall. “The Captain has offered his gig for your transference to the Pegasus, such as it is. His Coxswain is currently drowning outside, I believe.”

Robert didn’t know how to reply to that. “There go my hopes of another ale.”

“Nonsense, my newly-found friend. I’ll get us two and pay as well. What good are sailors if they don’t know how to get wet? Let the man suffer a little, it’ll only harden him.”

“But the Captain-” Robert began.

“Will expect some delay, only to be explained by the constant fluctuation of weather. Just tell him you’re awfully sorry but the gig couldn’t navigate the harbour waves.” He gave Robert a grin. “Ahoy! Landlord. Get us two of your finest ales, and I’ll take some boiled pork to warm my insides.”

Robert was forced to smile a little. William’s enthusiasm was infectious. The man was obviously of the aristocracy, for he seemed indifferent about irritating the Captain, which showed he had some leeway, and his speech echoed in stately dialect. “I have a thousand questions to ask but they can’t seem to find my tongue.”

William Jenkins-Hall bellowed with laughter. “I suppose you want to know if she’s a happy ship? If the men are good? If moral is high? Why you have been appointed here? What might be our mission? What the Captain is like?” He paused for a second, as the Landlord delivered their drinks, and told him Hall the food would be given soon. “I’ll answer the best I can. Captain Robins is a tough, stubborn man, who knows how he wants his officers to work and won’t budge. If he doesn’t like you, God help you. You’ll know what I mean when you meet him. Just try not to disappoint. The ship for the best part is fine, but we lost a lot of men in Africa, and half the men are landsmen or pressed, and we’re lacking in strong officers. And of our mission? The rumours whisper of the West Indies, but sometimes they’re so wrong I wouldn’t be surprised if our ensign ended up fluttering in the winds of India.”

Robert took a sip, and deliberated on an answer. There were so many thoughts swimming in his mind he didn’t know which to give prevalence too. A Captain hard to please. Not a good omen for himself, who hadn’t experienced sea time for longer then he cared to remember. He was out of practice and it would take time to readjust, especially to a new environment, and if Hall was correct, he didn’t have that precious time.

As his mind wandered, he remembered the long, delayed journey had been forced to suffer from Torquay to Plymouth. Despite the distance, and the towns lying just about half a day’s journey from one another, the stubbornness of the coachman had meant he was forced to stay a night in the quaint village of Ivybridge, below the harsh but beautiful moorlands of Dartmoor. Robert grudgingly admitted the place itself was ideal for a traveller’s stop, but had hoped to make it in one day to Plymouth. Instead the driver had flatly refused to move too quickly on the frozen paths for fear of harming his carefully oiled wheels, or forcing his horses to trot too far without rest for fear of them getting too cold outside.

Robert was shaken from his recollections as Hall cleared his throat. He had greedily eaten all the boiled pork, clearing his plate to leave nothing but greasy water gathering at its edges. “We better be getting on. The Captain can’t wait all day. Where’s your chest?”

“Upstairs. But I thought I should better change?”

“No time now! No, no. I’ll just go and tell Leigh where your chest is and we’ll have to go henceforth. We’ve tested his patience long enough, and that’s about as sensible as playing with gunpowder.”

Robert, ten minutes later, just a little bewildered and bedraggled as they stepped out into the unremitting rainfall, took a deep breath. Waiting for the plunge.

*

“Third Lieutenant, sah!” shouted the marine guard standing ceremoniously at the Captain’s cabin doors, straightening his posture and banging his musket butt on the deck as if he were on drill parade.

The great cabin door swung ominously open in front of Robert, revealing the luxurious (at least for a fighting ship) quarters of the ship’s commander, leader and God, for everything he said was law. Captain Robins sat behind his desk, scrawling some notes, but beckoned a hand for Robert to come forward. He was a small man, from what Robert could make out, with balding hair. Not the idealistic picture of a modern military commander. But from what he didn’t make up in size, he made up in presence. As soon as the Captain looked up, his eyes had a sudden alertness, strength behind them. Robert knew that it would do no good to fail a Captain with of stern a face as that.

“Lieutenant Shaw, I presume?” he said, looking down at his papers once more.

“Yes, sir.”

“Welcome onboard. You’ll be directed to your quarters soon. But I preferred to greet you presently, for I like to get to know my officers before they work beneath me. I like to know their … qualities.”

Robert felt slightly intimidated by the Captain’s tone of voice. “Of course, sir.”

“Your last ship was the Inflexible?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Under Captain Hammond, I recall?” he asked, though Robert supposed he was reading it off the paper in front of him.

“Indeed, sir.”

“A capital man! What did you think of him?”

“A fine officer to serve under, sir. It was a pleasure.” Was this a test?

Captain Robins moved back his chair laboriously, scraping it across the wooden flooring. He stood up, and despite being much shorter than Robert, maintained an aura far beyond his physical height. Robert felt like he could hold a baying crowd to silence. The Captain turned to look out the stern gallery windows, with his hands held loosely behind his back. “He’s a good friend of mine. We served as midshipmen together, back in ’79.”

Robert didn’t know what to say, so kept his mouth closed.

“Your father was at Saintes?” asked Robins.

He knows. “Captain of the Bedford, sir.”

Robert could see from the reflection in the window and the back of his head that was he was nodding solemnly. “They say she fought admirably.”

There was a silence. Robert’s mind was paralysed by a sudden memory that pierced the emotional broil, stirring since Robins had mentioned Saintes. The Battle of The Saintes. He remembered his Mother, usually so tough a woman, weeping and screaming like a possessed. He remembered being so young he didn’t know what was going on. Only that it was to do with his Father, because a man dressed in uniform had knocked on the door. Thrown to the present, he realised Robins was watching him. He breathed deeply and attempted to regain his composure. This is all just a test.

“They told me it was a gust of wind sir,” Robert replied, gulping and holding his head high. “That it was luck that cut her through the French line and let her rake them.”

“Nonsense!” Robins replied, keeping his glare unblinkingly on Robert, his eyes beaming down. “A Captain must use luck just as he uses any other tool of warfare. They say it was a sharpshooter that got him.”

Just a test. Robert swallowed hard again, nodded and replied tonelessly, “From the mast tops.”

“You come from a good stock, Lieutenant. I expect much of you,” Captain Robins said, without a smile or any sign of emotion. “You are dismissed. Midshipman Fawcett will show you to your quarters. He’s waiting outside. Good day.”

And that was that. Without a further glance from the Captain, Robert stalked out of the cabin, feeling like he had lost some sort of game. He certainly hadn’t impressed. Within the space of two hours, he already felt like Pegasus would be a hard home. But there was nowhere else for him now.

me likes the revised edition. moshes to Snow Patrol.

and there was no there to experience it alongside.

- should this be no one there

from snow to rain but his loneliness was left unaffected

- I would cut this down a smidge: ...snow to rain, his loneliness unaffected.

The inn door swung open, creaking at it’s hinge as a fleshy man with a rotund face walked cheerfully in. There was an incessant grin on his face, despite the weather, which had drenched his blue navy coat so it resembled a puddle, and battered his tricorne, which he duly removed from his head and wiped it down.

- I love, love this description, 'specially the puddle part.

“Do I make the acquaintance of Lieutenant Robert Shaw, of His Britannic Majesty’s Royal Navy?”

- Is the comma necessary? I'm not quite sure.

So I’d get into full dress, though the rain might spoil your parade

- Hahaha

His Coxswain is currently drowning outside, I believe.

- Hahaha, great image there.

Jenkins-Hall is such a full-bodied character, you have taken what could have been a two dimentional and made him 3, plus he makes me laugh. I imagine him to be saying any moment, "I thank the Gods everyday for the pleasure of my birth for I would have made a miserable peasant."

So anyways, I like the new entrance to Chapitre Deux immensely.

Ciao, CL.

Thanks, Cal. Yeah I love writing for Jenkins-Hall, he's a laugh.

Progress is so far stalled by my exams looming and busy times anyway. But thanks for the corrections!

I forgot, it's exam time isn't it? Those evil, evil exams. Well good luck!

Hiya, Jack! First, before you strangle me, I'm very sorry to have taken this long to comment on your story. Unlike the usual critiques I'm going to analyze your characters. I figured you might be a little tired of the usual pointing of grammatical errors, unnecessary words and the like. Besides, analyzing chars are so fun and helpful to the writer too! Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Robert Shaw

-extremely cold due to shivering
-prefers to be alone at this time
-melancholy
-feels guilty for the death of his wife
-seems to be in denial presently (At least in the beginning of the story. This is refreshing because in my opinion most people will automatically assume when someone dies the first thing they'll do is cry. That's not always the case as everyone grieves differently. So, kudos to you for locking on that particular emotion - denial. It makes his character more realistic.)
-has been involved with the Navy since childhood
-extremely lonely and probably depressed

His coat caught the air like a sail and he found it hard to make fast progress. Like a ship caught dead in the water.

-seems to related to the intense tides of the ocean to his emotions. (An intense tide can be unforgiven such as a riptide so it seems that Robert uses nature's fiercest elements to describe his sadness. I came to that reason through the quote. )
-his wife had an uncanny specialty of making people smile, even in the worse of times.

He had pushed too hard and she had fallen.

-(by the quote)he technically murdered his wife accidentally; a causality.

His mind turned once more to the funeral. He hadn’t even wept, when, after she was buried and the earth filled

(Ah, this brings home what I mentioned earlier about denial, which is a very powerful emotion separately. I believe you did very well on capturing what this emotion actually does - masks a terrible loss and in such a realistic way too! Excellent job.

Only when everybody had left, and the Vicar whispered his condolences to Robert, and left him alone, with just the gravestone and the deserted cemetery for company did tears fall down his own cheeks.

(Again, you've captured another important trait. Some people do not show emotion unless they're alone. Robert just becomes more and more real. )
-blames himself for the death of his wife
-seems to have a strict dad
-depressed
-very strong physically (I say this because Robert jumps overboard. Have you ever been in the middle of an ocean? There are usually many rips, the tide always changing. The ocean is most certainly unpredictable. I'm assuming they were near land and if that's the case the depth was probably 30-50 feet; enough where the current could easily carry you away in a few seconds. I speak from experience because I often go deep sea fishing and believe me it's VERY tiring to real in a 30lb+ striped bass against the tide. My shoulder is always tired and sore at the end of the day from the immense tug of the fish followed by the rips. Just thought I'd point this out. If Robert leaped overboard, he had to have been physically fit to not only attempt to haul a body but to tread water long enough to be saved.)

-boat had to have been fairly close to shore but in high tide (What brings me to this conclusion is that the boat had to have been near shore for the crew spot the body. There is no logical way otherwise for them to find Kate's body near rocks if the boat was father out in the ocean. Also, it they were near shore, it would have to been high tide. Near shore during low tide, a boat has to be extremely couscous for they will get stuck on a sandbar or worse; damage their motor on rocks. Besides, if it was low tide, surely Robert could have saved his wife since the tide is usually no more then neck length in depth, which lead me to believe she died during high tide, since she wasn't saved.)

-the day Kate died there had to have been a fierce storm (My guess this was the case since her body was washed up on shore the next day. If the tide was slack, this wouldn't have been the case. She would have drifted straight to the bottom.)

Hehe... I think I covered what I wanted in this chapter. Towards the end, I do what I enjoy most and that's over-analyzing characters and their predicaments. I hope by the over-analyzing you can compare these notes to your original ones. Gaining two completely different opinions (mine and yours) not only helps the writer but it sheds new light. You are seeing what the reader (me) thinks of the character and hopefully that will help in the future.

About Robert -

What can I say? He totally rocks! You've done an amazing job of creating a believable character in the first chapter. Robert's personality is something one person or another has experienced and therefore readers should automatically connect with him. So often I've read stories (not on YWS) where a writer well have a character suffer a tragic loss but forces that character to do obscene and ridiculous stunts, like going on a 'warpath' by displaying loads of unneeded anger, which is stupid because that's generally how a real live person wouldn't act.

So again, kudos to you Jack for describing sadness but in a realistic way and how that emotion effects Robert. It's just plain cool!

If you'd like, I can do this same type of critique for chapter 2. I mean *cough*William Jenkins-Hall

Thanks fishr, you already know from my PM that I loved this crit. Very refreshing! I'm glad you appreciate Robert as a character. By the way, all your guesstimations about Robert's wife dying and the details are pretty much correct. It was close to shore but high tide and there was a storm! Your comments about the strength of Robert was useful, too. To be honest I didn't really think about it but now you've given me some ideas on how to explain his strength. Also, he didn't actually murder his wife but simply blames himself for the run of occurences that eventually led to her dying. I reckon you probably already know that, though.

Thanks again!

Hehe. You're welcome, Jack. It was entertaining. Analyzing is a lot of fun but over-analyzing is much better. Unfortunately, I don't get to do it often on here. Grammar errors make me twitch but your story didn't have any that I saw. Besides, I can't analyze if a character is poorly developed like a carbon copy. Clearly this isn't the case.

Just wondering, but did you know what I meant by rips and slack tide?

Thank you for clearing up my misunderstanding about the death. Whoops! Heh, and it looks like you have something new to work with - Robert's strength.

Wouldn't be cool if both our novels were published?

I wonder what I can do with Chapter 2?

-fishr

No, I don't really know anything about tides, so rips and slack tide goes straight over my head. Perhaps you'll need to educate me one day!

I don't know if fishr has gotten back to you on tides but here are some useful things.

Description of riptide - http://www.reference.com/browse/wiki/Rip_current; its presented here much more coherently than I could.

As slack tide is one that does not exceed .05 knots.

The moon and its magentic pull to the earth are what create tides and because of that there are no tides around the equator and such. The sun's force also creates tides but their effects are less, much less.

You also might find this site interesting: http://home.hiwaay.net/~krcool/Astro/moon/moontides/

Hope this helps. A least a little. CL

(Edit: The most extreme tide difference (between low and high) is in the Channel Islands, particulary noticible on Herm, I've been there during both extremes, it's rathering cool to see.)

Round two. *scratches head* I wonder what I'll come up with this time? Let's see, last time I discovered Robert's strength. Now, I have two chars to 'dig' into. I'm more than likely going to skip back and forth between the two characters as they make their presence in order of the chapter.

Chapter 2

Robert

-as the story starts out - still sad
-waiting for a ship that he's been assigned too
-Unsociable? (It describes other people in the Inn but Robert choose to sit away from them. Interesting. Seems that he almost prefers to be alone)
-respectful and patient (He's quietly waiting until it is time for him to board by the Captain himself. Hehe. If it were me, I'd probably be shot on contact. I literally have no patience and would have boarded the ship regardless)

Sitting unaccompanied before going to a new ship, a new home where’d he live until he died or was moved or transferred as the Admiralty saw fit, was ultimately frightening – and there was no there to experience it alongside. Better get used to it.

In this sentence alone, I pulled the fallowing information from it:

-Has spent the majority of his life at sea or on ships in general. Ships (and Navy) is all Robert knows since he mentions he'll probably die or be transferred.
-Enlisted in Navy (unless there's another term for it?)
-frightened (Robert doesn't seem to cope with changes very well, especially when it revolves around a new ship.
-Longs to have a friend (wants someone with him to experience any conflicts, though it doesn't specifically say Kate, so I'm assuming a friend in general. Maybe he's not as anti-social as I first thought? )


William Jenkins-Hall

-pompous (At least, that's my impression of him)
-good-natured
-Very direct, straight to the point type of guy
-seems to enjoy smiling and laughing
-An extremely important man, at least in the Captain's eyes. (I would think a Capt. would want a tightly timed crew and not have to wait but Jenkins seems to have an incredible amount of respect with the Capt. by drinking instead of following orders. Leeway might be an understatement.)

Robert

A Captain hard to please. Not a good omen for himself, who hadn’t experienced sea time for longer then he cared to remember. He was out of practice and it would take time to readjust, especially to a new environment, and if Hall was correct, he didn’t have that precious time.

-Hmm... Being raised on the ocean (father was a Captain) it has been a while (But exactly how much time has passed since Robert was last on a boat?) since he was last at sea.
-A great deal of time away from the ocean (If Robert says he's out of practice, for someone who was raised on ships, then I'm guessing he's been away from the sea for somewhere around a decade possibly? It's difficult to determine because it's not mentioned in the story. Although, I'm certain he still remembers the basics - masts and locations of a ship.
-Doesn't care for a hard-to-please Capt. at all

He was out of practice and it would take time to readjust, especially to a new environment, and if Hall was correct, he didn’t have that precious time

Have to ask, but where it's bolded, what do you mean? Why doesn't Robert have much time to adjust to knew surroundings? Sorry. Moving on...


Jenkins

We’ve tested his patience long enough, and that’s about as sensible as playing with gunpowder.”

*smiles* So, Jenkens has a sarcastic sense of humor?
-Greedy (at least when it comes to food and importantly salted pork, lol. I wonder how much food is served to the officers?)

Why not while I'm at it? Might as well go all out right?

Captain Robins

-Stern
-requires trustworthy officers
-must inspect officers first before their allowed to be apart of his crew
-if Robin despises a crew member, life is pretty damn hard, according to Jenkins
-humorless
-short in stature


Robert

-intimidated by Robins
-seems nervous of the Capt.
-Father died? (I'm not familiar with this era. Actually I'm not sure where in time we are? I only know that Robbins spoke of the year '79'. So, I'm guessing we're in 1879 or least the 1800's? Can't be 1979 because automobiles were obviously invented already, lol. And it mentions in the story about horse drawn carriages, or at least I think so? I'm positive it's not 1779 because you describe their uniforms; Jenkins and Roberts. So, it seems we're not in the 18th century. Anyway, back on track, lol. The father seems to have died or suffered an extreme injury since his mother, who is usually mentally strong, cried.)

-seems to miss his father; has trouble speaking about him to Robins much less keeping his composure.
-feels that he let Robins down in some way; unimpressed him
-feels he was put to a test and failed
-feels that the Pegusus is already a difficult place to co-exist
-mentions there is nowhere else for him to go too (So, at the end, does this mean he permanently on Pegusus until death? Or just for the time being? I ask because of this:

But there was nowhere else for him now.

This just seems so final. If Robert is not meant to be permanently on the ship, between 'him' and 'now' place a 'for.' So, you'll have - But there was nowhere else for him for now. With that one extra word, the sentence suggests that until Robert's transferred again, he's home is on the Pegasus until then. It just come off as a final decision where Robert is doomed to spend his remaining years on this boat.

Hehe... There we go. Um, I kinda slipped into the old criting habits at the end and I went into depth with the dates. *shrugs* I was curious, lol. So, I typed exactly what I was thinking about what era we're in and what '79' actually meant in a time frame.

Out of the three characters, I like Robins the best. I've always been drawn to the 'jerks', the antagonists, the people that you rather poke with a ten foot pole. Robins has that certain appeal I enjoy about characters; the 'rough around the edges' type of deal. Hard to explain but he's my favorite thus far.

Jenkins is pretty cool. Pompous characters are amusing, lol. And he has a sense of a sarcastic humor and is good natured to boot.

I typed this late, so if something doesn't make sense; ask.
-fishr