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Young Writers Society



Untitled, Chapter One

by Attolia


Nice, France, July 1913



He looked over to her, the woman that would soon be his wife. She was sitting across from him on the couch and a smile played over her lips. “As I was saying,” he continued, “once I’ve invested the money and we’ve opened up the Nice and Marseilles stores – and of course, I’ll have full ownership, you know – in a year or two I’ll be making a very handsome monthly income.”

She was looking at him politely, but not as interested as he would have liked. “Yes,” he continued, “these stores will bring in huge profits, it’s an untapped market, really -- and I’ll be making a very pretty amount… yes, something that should no doubt please whomever I decide to marry.”

“Is that so?” she asked. Of course, humility was necessary, but he thought she should look a little more excited. Her dark hair fell on her shoulders, down her red dress, and she merely looked at him with polite interest.

He thought she was again suppressing a smile behind her rather impassive expression and this encouraged him. “Well yes, naturally my uncle will still own the chain, but I’ll own these two stores. He’ll only get a very small fraction of the profits, the rest will go to me and my future family.” He smiled over at her.

“But you’ll have to invest a lot, first? Why shouldn’t your uncle invest?”

His smile grew wider. “You see, Adele,” he started gently, more confident now that he understood her lack of enthusiasm. “That’s what being the owner entails. Naturally it will have to be my money, as I’ll be the one making the profits. Investing my own money leaves me responsible for the success of the business. You see that, don’t you?”

She smiled, and her already handsome features transformed with the expression. Yes, his wife would certainly be more beautiful than any of his cousins’. “Of course,” she answered. “But won’t it require a rather large sum? Forgive me,” she said, smiling at him again, “but you don’t seem to save much of your monthly income. You have enough saved up to invest immediately?”

He waved a hand. “Oh, well, I inherited some land I’m planning to sell.”

“Not part of your estate?” she asked, and her brow creased. It would be a natural concern to her, he supposed – she wouldn’t want to marry someone without a sizeable estate.

“No, no. My grandfather bought some coal mines before the Franco-Prussian War. The coal ended up being quite shallow, so the mines failed quickly, and the land would be almost worthless now if not for its location. They’re on the edge of the Massif Central and the land lies on a bank where a railroad would be ideal to build, due to the terrain,” he explained. “So, you see, the land itself can get me a decent figure - certainly enough to open up these stores.”

She looked more relaxed – pleased, no doubt, that his estate wouldn’t suffer. “You don’t want to invest in the railroad yourself?” she asked. It was a good question, he thought. She might be able to run his household decently herself, and then he could leave less to his staff, whom one could never fully trust.

“No, no, not for many reasons,” he said. She looked at him intently without replying, and he continued. “It would take a lot of money, and it’s a bit risky. Railroads are…” he trailed off, as truthfully he didn’t know much about the industry. “Well, let’s just say these department stores will be much more profitable,” he said, reassuring her. “Much higher returns,” he added, smiling.

She nodded and briefly returned his smile as she stood up, motioning to his glass. “Would you like some more?”

“Oh,” he looked to his almost empty glass and handed it to her. “Sure.” He looked around the room. How many drinks had they had since they’d left the ballroom and had found this drawing room? Three, or four? He hadn’t realized so much time had passed. He had been pleased they had found the room empty, so he could bring up the subject of marriage.

“So, as I was saying,” he said loudly so she could hear him across the room, where she stood at the bar refilling their drinks. “I’ll soon be making enough to keep a wife very happy.”

Her back was mostly turned to him, and he couldn’t see her response. She must not have heard him. He stood and walked across the room in order to stand next to her at the bar.

“As I was—“ he started to say, at the same time that she turned to him and spoke.

“Oh, I’m sorry Hector, had you said something over there?” she said, as she handed him a fuller glass of red wine. Her easy smile was gone, and her brow was creased again. “I was thinking how you mentioned the Franco-Prussian war. Do you think we’ll go to war again soon? The whole continent is arming itself, and we’ve already made many agreements with the English.”

Women – he thought, simultaneously endeared and annoyed – always worried. He touched her arm with his free left hand. It was slightly awkward because it was her right arm – since they were facing each other – and thus the hand in which she held her glass. She raised her arm to take a sip of wine and he moved his hand back to his side, taking a long drink from his glass as well. 

“Don’t you worry, my dear,” he told her. “Even if we do go to war within the next few years, it won’t be so bad. Together with the English and the Russians – who they’ve made agreements with, you know – we’re much better armed and much better prepared.” She was looking up at him, listening intently. Though she was tall for a woman, she was still about a head shorter than him. 

“No, no,” he said. “If we go to war, it will be a good thing.” He started to move a step closer to her, and at the same time she started walking back to the couch. He suddenly felt tired – what was the time? He continued speaking as they walked. “Yes, we’ll just take back Alsace-Lorraine, and for good this time.”

He shook his head at the thought as they sat back down on the couch. Or rather, he sat down – Adele remained standing next to him. Why wasn’t she sitting as well? And what had he been saying? “Yes,” he continued, “we’ll finally get that land back – and its population as well.” More customers for Moreau Department Stores, he thought. “Yes, and more customers for our stores!”

The girl was still standing in front of the couch, looking down at him.

He realized he was leaning heavily against the back of the couch. How much had he drunk throughout the night? He felt exhausted. The yellow lights around the room were spinning.

“Do you like the wine?” he heard her say. He opened his eyes and tried to find her. She hadn’t moved; she still stood in front of him.

“Ye-, yes.” He blinked at the spinning lights. “What was I saying?”

“You were telling me about your stores.”

“Ah, yes. Onc- once I invest, and the stores are opened…” he opened his eyes. Had they been closed? “And the stores are opened…”

His body slumped further backwards on the couch and the glass dropped from his hand, spilling red wine onto the beige carpet below.

The dark-haired girl stood back and took in the scene. The drunken, unconscious man slumped against the back of the sofa, his mouth open and gawking. His outstretched arm dangling off; his fingers almost pointing to the empty glass and stained carpet underneath. In a while he might start snoring, and the picture would be complete. She smiled. Poor Madame Breton for her lovely, lovely carpet.

Adele stopped to pick up her own glass before she walked out of the room. She passed by the open door to the makeshift ballroom, where the violins of two musicians could still be heard. The few remaining couples were scattered across chairs to either side of the room, talking in groups of twos or threes. She continued across the house, leaving her glass on a side table in the main hallway as she walked.

At the back of the house, she stepped through an open doorway to the patio outside. It was partially enclosed by an overhanging roof, a wall to her left, and the back of the house behind her. The remaining two sides opened up onto the manicured lawn atop the hill. In front of them the harbor and sea stretched out endlessly. The full moon alight the water and the twinkle of ships’ lights scattered across the harbor. The summer air was warm – warm enough to make night the only bearable time to be outside.

Four people sat playing bridge on a table to her left, including Madame Lavigne and Madame Breton, their hostess. There were also two men: Madame Breton’s loud brother, Monsieur Travere, and a portly man whose name Adele didn’t know. They were all animated in their game; nobody noticed her entrance. 

She then looked to the pair standing at the edge of the lawn. She was pleased to see Jacqueline and Monsieur Girand together. They had been gravitating towards each other since they had been introduced at the beginning of the month. He was a man worthy of attention. Early thirties, aesthetically pleasing – more due to the upright way he held himself than to his rather average height and light brown hair – and involved in trade and industry all across the southern coast. 

The two stood talking to each other in quiet murmurs and perpetual smiles that each of their sensibilities still barely managed to conceal. Jacqueline was well-suited to Girand. Sweet, humble, perceptive Jacqueline… she suspected Girand appreciated her for some of the same qualities Adele herself valued – or perhaps had groomed – in her.

Adele, on the other hand, would have been much too bold, much too clever, and perhaps too striking for his traditional mores. He also belonged to the rare species of man who might question why she would focus her attentions and charms on him. It would be doable, of course, but it would be a long game with no promise of reward. Jacqueline was certainly better suited to him, and besides, Moreau had been her object since they’d been in Nice. 

She walked toward the pair. Behind her smile, she watched to see how Jacqueline – who looked like she had been coaxed into a few extra drinks by the annoyingly lively group at the table – would react to her sudden reappearance. She approached and was satisfied to see Jacqueline’s face light up. “Adele!”

She continued smiling -- first at Jacqueline, then at Girand. “Hello, dearest,” she said to Jacqueline. She noted with amusement that Girand glanced at Jacqueline for a moment before deciding to return her smile. If she stayed to talk with them, she knew Girand would be conscious not to be too friendly to her and would take cues from Jacqueline in how to approach her.

Jacqueline, however, could read Adele’s intent. “You’re to say it’s time to go, aren’t you?” she asked once Adele was standing next to them, looking a bit crestfallen. “I know that it’s late.”

“I’m sorry, Jacqueline,” she answered, sympathetically, and then she left the two to their private goodbyes as she walked over to the table.

The bridge group had, by this time, noticed her arrival. Madame Lavigne called out excitedly to her as she approached. “Adele, oh Adele darling! Come join us.” Adele now stood next to them, as Madame Lavigne waved a hand across the table. ”See how well I’ve been doing!” Her chips toppled higher than any of the others' and were almost double those of Madame Breton, who had pursed her lips at the other woman’s comment.

“Adele, dearest, what have you been up to?” Madame Breton asked, at the same time her brother spoke in a louder voice.

“Come join us for a drink! You can take my place for a round,” Travere offered, and the other man grunted something Adele took as affirmation of this invitation.

She smiled at Madame Breton and answered her brother. “Unfortunately,” she said apologetically, “I’m only here to thank your sister for this lovely night.”

“Oh!” said Madame Lavigne, who was officially Adele and Jacqueline’s chaperone. A widow about forty, slightly less rich than her friends, she lived next door to the DuPont house in Lyon and fervently accepted their invitations. “I suppose,” she said sadly, “I suppose I’ll have to leave then as well.” She looked ostentatiously around the table, at her chips and her friends.

“Nonsense!” Travere replied. “They’ll be perfectly fine to leave without you. They have their driver, and it’s only a short journey.”

Madame Lavigne protested, smiling widely, until Madame Breton joined her brother’s pleas and they all arranged for her to stay longer and to share the portly man’s carriage home; he lived “really quite close” to her, after all. Pleased, Madame Lavigne offered Adele and Jacqueline – who had just joined them – heartfelt goodbyes.

With just a few more words, the two girls were soon walking away from the patio back through the house.

“You seem to have been enjoying yourself.”

“Oh,” Jacqueline started and turned to Adele, who was looking in front of them. She turned back to look forward as well. “Yes... lovely night. Madame Breton was truly lovely.”

“Yes, Madame Breton was really the highlight of the night,” Adele replied, and Jacqueline blushed.

They continued walking. “What about you, did you enjoy your night Adele?” she asked.

Adele didn’t answer immediately, and the other girl turned again to look at her. Adele condescended to meet her eyes, and then gave the smallest shrug of one shoulder. “It wasn’t wholly unsatisfying.”

Neither said anything further. A Breton servant opened the front doors for them, leading them through to the curved road outside. The houses on the street were larger and newer than those in the older, central part of the city below, but in their red tiled roofs and tan stucco walls they attempted to retain some Mediterranean character. Their driver Nicolas was waiting for them in front of their carriage, and he helped them into its seats.

They left the carriage windows open and the warm salty air flew past them. It was less than a mile to the house, and the bumpy ride passed quickly. Jacqueline yawned she waited for Nicolas to help Adele out of the carriage first.

The boy Jacques, who was waiting for them inside the house, opened the door for them and asked them if they needed anything. Adele, who had barely looked at him since entering the house, turned her head to him.

“No, thank you. You two,” and she looked to Nicolas as well, who had just come in, “may go to bed,” she said dismissively. Heads ducked, they both nodded at her, and she continued to watch them until they had walked up the stairs and out of sight.

She then turned to Jacqueline, standing patiently beside her. The blonde girl stifled another yawn as she returned her gaze. “You have errands to run tomorrow?” Adele asked.

Jacqueline nodded.

“Alright. We’ll speak in the morning,” she said, effectively dismissing her as well.

Jacqueline kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, Adele,” she murmured, and then followed the path of the other two up the stairs.

Adele stood in the hallway for half a moment more before turning to walk past the staircase, further into the depths of the ground floor. She turned the corner on her right and passed a few more doors until she entered her father’s study.

She turned on one of the electric lights and walked over to the main bookcase. The study was an immaculate collection of the colors green, red, and gold. Armchairs, tables, and bookshelves lined the walls, but her father’s large desk on one end was the room’s defining feature. The main bookcase stood against the wall to the right of the desk, and she retrieved one of its books – Tacitus’s Annals – before seating herself at his desk chair.

Running her hand almost tenderly across the cover, she opened the book and flipped to a specific page. Adele took a small piece of paper from the desk and wrote a single line in Latin. They had no need of code or further carefulness; she just thought it blasphemy to mar Tacitus’s words with the superfluousness of French.

Moreau unaware of mines’ worth. Impatient to sell quickly.

She blew on the ink and then deposited the small slip of paper to the open page and closed the book. After walking back to the bookcase, she replaced the Annals in its spot. Then, on the off-chance that a stray servant should notice her leaving the study, she removed another book at random and began the walk upstairs to her rooms.


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48 Reviews


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Sun Apr 24, 2016 1:15 am
Jyva wrote a review...



>She was sitting across from him on the couch and a smile played over her lips.

you've got present and past tense in the same tense. should be "and a smile was playing over her lips".


>She was looking at him politely, but not as interested as he would have liked.

interestedly. to check for stuff like this, substitute the relevant part of the first branch of the sentence with the second. "She was looking at him interested." yeah, i know the wording there coulda been better shhhh


>“Yes,” he continued, “these stores will bring in huge profits, it’s an untapped market, really -- and I’ll be making a very pretty amount… yes, something that should no doubt please whomever I decide to marry.”

"yes" is in the beginning of both of the dialogue lines here. should be easily fixed, unless you're doing it on purpose - having it as a linguistic quirk of the character.


>Of course, humility was necessary, but he thought she should look a little more excited.

you've already established that your dude character wants the chick character to be more into what he's saying, barely five sentences before. unnecessary.


>Her dark hair fell on her shoulders, down her red dress, and she merely looked at him with polite interest.

again, here - you've already used this -
>She was looking at him politely,
also, what does her appearance have to do with her polite interest? may as well restructure this entire sentence, remove the polite interest part, and just dedicate it to description. even then, i'd move description of the female somewhere else, because the focus of the reader right now is on this conversation. plopping description in the middle of it is like... having a polar bear in a rainforest. it doesn't belong there.


>He thought she was again suppressing a smile behind her rather impassive expression and this encouraged him. “Well yes, naturally my uncle will still own the chain, but I’ll own these two stores. He’ll only get a very small fraction of the profits, the rest will go to me and my future family.” He smiled over at her.

220 words in, and we've got no names yet. that's fine, maybe you want to leave them a surprise. but, please, don't refer to the characters with only "he" and "she". it's very noticeable. switch it up by using stuff like "the man" and "the woman", to list two bland examples. you could even use them to give description - "the dark-haired woman".
the "he smiled over at her" sentence could be better. no suggestions to give as of right now. it just could.


>His smile grew wider. “You see, Adele,”

ah, theres a name. no drama to it, the male's just saying it. why don't you refer to the characters with their names? i just took a quick scan down the writing, and you do end up using "Adele" with no issue - it's not till a few hundred words later, though.


>She smiled, and her already handsome features transformed with the expression.

"handsome" is a descriptor usually only applied to male characters. just sayin'.


>“No, no, not for many reasons,” he said. She looked at him intently without replying, and he continued. “It would take a lot of money, and it’s a bit risky. Railroads are…” he trailed off, as truthfully he didn’t know much about the industry. “Well, let’s just say these department stores will be much more profitable,” he said, reassuring her. “Much higher returns,” he added, smiling.

he said. he trailed off. he said, reassuring her. he added, smiling.
repetitive structure. repetition's good for dramatic dialogue and poems, but this ain't dramatic dialogue or a poem.


>“So, as I was saying,” he said loudly so she could hear him across the room, where she stood at the bar refilling their drinks. “I’ll soon be making enough to keep a wife very happy.”

"as I was saying," he said"
there's nothing TOO wrong with that, it just could be improved. you're using two words with the same root word right next to each other. that probably doesn't make sense, so here's an example, uh...
"wrongly wronged?" yeah. shush. that will be your quality example.
one more thing - the sentence is too long. there's too much of a break between the first half of the dialogue and the second. it's worded pretty awkwardly, too. just read it out loud.


>He stood and walked across the room in order to stand next to her at the bar.

so many words for such a simple action. "he got up and walked to her side." there.


>“As I was—“ he started to say, at the same time that she turned to him and spoke. “Oh, I’m sorry Hector, had you said something over there?”

the root word issue comes up again, except it's like twice as hard to explain here.
first you have the incomplete sentence from your male character - specifically, the word he left out that the reader will finish in their head. "saying."
then there's "he started to say"
then "she turned to him and spoke."
THEN, in Adele's dialogue is "had you said something over there?".

i'm sure you can see the issues with the first, second, and fourth lines there, so i'm going to explain the third, "spoke." usually, it'd be perfectly fine - but here it is surrounded by three other words that carry basically the same meaning (they all indicate someone speaking normally and moderately).
you may have read that it's often better to just put "said" instead of words like "snarled" or "murmured" or "hissed", since the reader will often just skip over "said". that is partially true - if you have too many of those dialogue descriptives in your writing, it's gonna look gross. but they are still good when used at the right time. in this case, you can't really use them cause the dialogue is fairly nonexciting and so they're not necessary. still, something to note. i'll stop rambling now.


>He touched her arm with his free left hand. It was slightly awkward because it was her right arm – since they were facing each other – and thus the hand in which she held her glass. She raised her arm to take a sip of wine and he moved his hand back to his side, taking a long drink from his glass as well.

you know what's also slightly awkward? this description. jesus man, keep it simple.


>The whole continent is arming itself, and we’ve already made many agreements with the English.”
>“Don’t you worry, my dear,” he told her. “Even if we do go to war within the next few years, it won’t be so bad. Together with the English and the Russians – who they’ve made agreements with, you know

are you going to specify what these agreements are any time soon?
im so happy that you had "he told her" there

>“we’re much better armed and much better prepared.” She was looking up at him, listening intently. Though she was tall for a woman, she was still about a head shorter than him.

weirdly-placed description again


>“No, no,” he said. “If we go to war, it will be a good thing.” He started to move a step closer to her, and at the same time she started walking back to the couch. He suddenly felt tired – what was the time? He continued speaking as they walked.

he did this. he did that. he. ARGH, WHERE'S HIS DAMNED NAME?!
i'm starting notice a pattern of limited vocabulary in regards to dialogue - you seem to mainly use "asked", "said," and "spoke."


>He shook his head at the thought as they sat back down on the couch. Or rather, he sat down – Adele remained standing next to him.

ADELE WOOOOOOOOOOO


>The girl was still standing in front of the couch, looking down at him.

"the girl" WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


>Adele remained standing next to him.
>The girl was still standing in front of the couch, looking down at him.
>She hadn’t moved; she still stood in front of him.

repetition nooooooooo.


>He realized he was leaning heavily against the back of the couch. How much had he drunk throughout the night? He felt exhausted. The yellow lights around the room were spinning.

“Do you like the wine?” he heard her say. He opened his eyes and tried to find her. She hadn’t moved; she still stood in front of him.
“Ye-, yes.” He blinked at the spinning lights. “What was I saying?”
“You were telling me about your stores.”
“Ah, yes. Onc- once I invest, and the stores are opened…” he opened his eyes. Had they been closed? “And the stores are opened…”

too many "he"s


>The dark-haired girl stood back and took in the scene.

you've already mentioned that she was dark-haired, but props for not saying "she"
you've also used "stood" and "standing" three times now.

>His body slumped further backwards on the couch and the glass dropped from his hand, spilling red wine onto the beige carpet below.

instead of "backwards on" i'd use "into", but that' just me.
nice smooth description with the wine.


>The drunken, unconscious man slumped against the back of the sofa, his mouth open and gawking. His outstretched arm dangling off; his fingers almost pointing to the empty glass and stained carpet underneath.

usage of "gawking" is incorrect here. it refers to the entire face. definition - "stare openly and stupidly." could be a metaphor thing, but there are better words for that.
that semicolon shouldn't be there; you should just use a comma instead.
"his outstretched arm was dangling off the ____".
actually, why is his arm outstretched? that implies he was reaching out with it before he went unconscious. he was "leaning heavily" on the back of the couch...


>Poor Madame Breton for her lovely, lovely carpet.

i think this needs a rewording


>She passed by the open door to the makeshift ballroom, where the violins of two musicians could still be heard. The few remaining couples were scattered across chairs to either side of the room, talking in groups of twos or threes. She continued across the house, leaving her glass on a side table in the main hallway as she walked.

problem - i have no idea what to imagine when i try to visualise this house. you've given no real description of it yet. "makeshift ballroom" suggests that it's kind of broken down. judging from what mr. drunk guy has said, it's meant to be a rich place. maybe he'd just moved in, and wanted to have a party before the ballroom was full furnished? from reading forward to the next paragraph you've made it clear that the place is wealthy, but at this point in the story the reader would be very confused.
my favourite issue has popped up here. repetitive sentence structure! look at those three sentences. something happens, description. something happens, description. something happens, description.
you've also used only "she" again


>At the back of the house, she stepped through an open doorway to the patio outside. It was partially enclosed by an overhanging roof, a wall to her left, and the back of the house behind her.

:I
why do these details about the house matter? general description is ok, like saying it has fancy furniture or whatever, but specifying that there's a wall to her left in a section about her walking through a patio?


>The remaining two sides opened up onto the manicured lawn atop the hill. In front of them the harbor and sea stretched out endlessly.

who/what is "them"? are you talking about the remaining two sides - front and right relative to Adele? if so, that is awkward as hell. change that phrasing.


>In front of them the harbor and sea stretched out endlessly. The full moon alight the water and the twinkle of ships’ lights scattered across the harbor.

"the full moon alight the water?"
this section could be greatly improved - if you feel that this description is even necessary.
"In front of her was the harbour, bathed in warm light from the ships moored at the docks. Beyond the sails and rigging lay the ocean, its blue waves encompassing the horizon, shimmering with light as well - but not like the harbour. The ocean's light came from the full moon shining above it."
that's too grand, and far too rushed, but you get the idea. expand on "endlessly" at the very least.


>The summer air was warm – warm enough to make night the only bearable time to be outside.

this makes... no sense. this implies that daytime in france is so cold you literally cannot go outside. in summer.


>They were all animated in their game; nobody noticed her entrance.

'animated
adjective
1. full of life or excitement; lively.
"an animated conversation"'
i'd rephrase this sentence


>Sweet, humble, perceptive Jacqueline… she suspected Girand appreciated her for some of the same qualities Adele herself valued – or perhaps had groomed – in her.

"she suspected" here sounds like the sentence is referring to Jacqueline. from the "Adele herself" part the reader works out that it's actually Adele, but the reader shouldn't have to do that.


>Adele, on the other hand, would have been much too bold, much too clever, and perhaps too striking for his traditional mores.

WAY TO BE HUMBLE, ADELE. if this is on purpose make it... more subtle. flaws in characters are great, but the reader should still be cheering for them. i read that and i go "this chick needs to be knocked down a few pegs."
this is if i'm right in assuming that Adele's a protagonist.


>She walked toward the pair. Behind her smile, she watched to see how Jacqueline – who looked like she had been coaxed into a few extra drinks by the annoyingly lively group at the table – would react to her sudden reappearance. She approached and was satisfied to see Jacqueline’s face light up. “Adele!”
She continued smiling -- first at Jacqueline, then at Girand. “Hello, dearest,” she said to Jacqueline. She noted with amusement that Girand glanced at Jacqueline for a moment before deciding to return her smile. If she stayed to talk with them, she knew Girand would be conscious not to be too friendly to her and would take cues from Jacqueline in how to approach her.

she she she she she she she she she

that's how many "she"s are in this section.
there's five "her"s too.


>“You seem to have been enjoying yourself.”

reader doesn't know who's talking right now.


>They continued walking. “What about you, did you enjoy your night Adele?” she asked.

"What about you? Did you enjoy your night(, Adele)?"


> Adele condescended to meet her eyes, and then gave the smallest shrug of one shoulder. “It wasn’t wholly unsatisfying.”


oh god haha
"condescend
verb
past tense: condescended; past participle: condescended
1. show that one feels superior; be patronizing.
"take care not to condescend to your reader"
2. do something in such a way as to emphasize that one clearly regards it as below one's dignity or level of importance."

i think you wanted "descended", but that's pretty awkward as well. plus, just visualising the action... adele bends her knees slightly to meet Jacqueline's eyes then shrugs? pffffff


>A Breton servant opened the front doors for them, leading them through to the curved road outside.

front doors of what? the house? you need to tell the readers that.
so i've just taken a quick trip to google - brittany, where the bretons live, is on the furthest northwestern corner of france. nice, where this story takes place, is on the exact opposite edge of the country. i guess it's possible for a breton to be in nice, but that would need some explaining - if this servant even matters in the story. far as i can see, they're just there to open the door. why does it matter that they're a breton? even if this servant comes back later, why even mention it? unless their being a breton is important later in the story, just remove that part entirely.


>Their driver Nicolas was waiting for them in front of their carriage, and he helped them into its seats.

people usually write "their seats" buuuuuut ehhhhhh.


>They left the carriage windows open and the warm salty air flew past them. It was less than a mile to the house, and the bumpy ride passed quickly. Jacqueline yawned she waited for Nicolas to help Adele out of the carriage first.

no meaningful dialogue happened at all during the carriage ride? you skipping the ride is good then, i guess - but if you did this with the carriage ride why didn't you do it for that lengthy section with those rich dudes whose names i've already forgotten? that dialogue was dull as heck.


>The boy Jacques, who was waiting for them inside the house, opened the door for them and asked them if they needed anything. Adele, who had barely looked at him since entering the house, turned her head to him.

"the boy" is a great descriptor. A+ 10/10.
is Jacques linked to Jacqueline in some way? like is he her little brother? if they're not, change his name. you don't want the reader making connections where none are meant to exist.
you've got repetitive structure here. this person, who had done this thing, does something. this person, who had done this thing, does something.


>“No, thank you. You two,” and she looked to Nicolas as well, who had just come in, “may go to bed,” she said dismissively.

this section reads so - i'm sorry for using it again - awkwardly.


>She then turned to Jacqueline, standing patiently beside her.

you're using "turned" too much. don't worry, i have problems with this too.


>She turned on one of the electric lights and walked over to the main bookcase. The study was an immaculate collection of the colors green, red, and gold.

i know that you meant to say that the main colours in the study were green, red, and gold, but the way you phrase it makes it sound like the entire study was literally a collection of things that are the aforementioned colours.


>Armchairs, tables, and bookshelves lined the walls, but her father’s large desk on one end was the room’s defining feature.

on one end? that doesn't help at all. i still don't know where it is. say "on the far wall" or "on the left wall".


>The main bookcase stood against the wall to the right of the desk,

once you've laid out the position of the desk, the bookcase thing will be fine.


>Running her hand almost tenderly across the cover, she opened the book and flipped to a specific page.

"almost tenderly"? why, is there something holding her back from giving this book the full tender experience? some bad memory, perhaps? the reader doesn't know that. the reader would be confused at those words.


one final and terrible criticism - you've written 2862 words and 10 A4 pages worth of... nothing. i know this is going to feel like absolute crap to hear, but a story needs to engage the reader from page one. nothing interesting has happened in nearly three thousand words. nothing unusual, nothing different, no real powerful motives behind a single character's actions. a chick talks to a rich guy about marriage and war, then leaves. that's all that has happened. even the characters fairly boring as of right now. i know that this is just before WWI starts, so something nice is probably going to happen with that, but it's still not enough. the reader has no incentive to continue from here.




Attolia says...


Hey Jyva!
Thank you so much for this very thorough review!

I don't think we're quite on the same page with everything (i.e. I do know what "condescended" means, but thanks all the same), but your viewpoint has been helpful overall. Many of your nitpicks and larger criticisms will be very helpful when I edit this. I really appreciate when people pick apart language to this degree. Thanks so much again for the time you spent on this review, and please let me know if you'd ever like me to return the favor and look at any of your works!



Jyva says...


no worries



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Sat Apr 23, 2016 6:24 pm
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Sins wrote a review...



ohhidere.

I'm actually getting to this way earlier than I thought I would because I'm currently experiencing the biggest procrastination session known to humanity. But yay, earliness! I'm super pumped to read this because I love reading edited versions of old novels I've read before.

Oooooo I like this. As an opening chapter, it's intriguing, and everything flows smoothly. We're only a chapter in and I can already feel the sass emanating from Adele, and I love it. I can't really remember the version I read however long ago, but I can already tell that things could turn very interesting very quickly here. I'm a big fan, basically. My challenge here is to be able to give you some constructive criticism without repeating what anyone else has said ft. actually being able to think of something :P But yus, overall, I really enjoyed reading this chapter.

I guess one little thing that bugged me throughout this were the vast amount of names, faces, personalities e.t.c. For an opening chapter, you've introduced a lot of people. There are the three main ones: Adele, Jacqueline and Moreau (that's the name of the guy, right?) Other than that, everyone blurs into one. I'm not sure how important these other characters will be in the future, but if they're not that vital (especially if they don't come up again), I'd suggest leaving them unnamed. Or at least just holding back a bit, and introducing them a little later in a more spread out manner. Granted, this is probably just me being really dumb and easily confusable, but I figured I'd mention it as it was something that made the reading of this a little hectic at times.

Now this may the adrenaline junkie in me, but I also kind of want the scene where Adele spikes the dude's drink to be more dramatic. As of now, it does feel a bit like she spiked him, and he flopped on the sofa, and that was it. I want to feel him drifting off, really sense his confusion e.t.c. You do a decent job, with his internal questioning and what not, but I can't help wanting a bit more. I think playing around with sentence structure is what I'm asking for here. For example, to portray him slowly slipping out of consciousness, you could throw in some long, dreary, almost run-on sentences to portray a sense of airiness (that's a word ok). I don't know, I guess I'm just saying you should play around a bit with that scene, don't be afraid of trying some whacky techniques because hey, if you don't like the results, they're easily edited out!

Something that's probably a lot more of a personal preference thing (so please do take with a pinch of salt) is your dialogue-narrative balance. The majority of this chapter is dialogue, really. As I said, it's a big opinion-based thing, but I prefer a bit more of an even balance. For example, the place these guys are in seems pretty impressive and grand, so I'd like to see more description there. Adele's reactions and internal thoughts aren't explored loads either, and that's definitely something I'd like to see more of because her character is interesting. I won't dwell on this one because of the whole personal preference aspect to it, but for me, when there's a lot more dialogue than there is narrative (and vice versa), I always find myself craving the one that doesn't show so much. It's something to think about, anywho.

That's all I really have for you, I think.. Part of me wants this chapter to jump out at me a bit more, to leave me giddy and wanting more, but I think that aspect can be fixed with things like delving into Adele's thoughts a little more. It's not a huge issue, is what I'm saying. Plus as a whole, I definitely enjoyed this, and want to read on regardless! Apologies if I've not been very clear with anything, and be sure to let me know if you have any questions or comments regarding this review :)

Keep writing,

xoxo Skins




Attolia says...


Skins you're the best! Sorry for my late-ish reply; I was out of town all weekend. I definitely agree about making the scene where she drugs him more tense and exciting. I think my old version was too over-the-top, so I'm trying to make this more subtle in terms of the actual plot, but I think I went too far to the other extreme. (Like just because the plot is subtle doesn't mean the language has to be as well!! I need to find that happy medium/right balance.) I agree about the extra characters as well; it's funny because I didn't even want to have them and they were a chore and a bore to write. But I forced myself to like think and plan it all out because I wanted the scene/setting to feel FULL and "all there," if that makes sense? But I was misguided, I think -- if the extra characters are superficial it won't make it feel more full, quite the opposite. I should focus on developing it in other ways.
I was having trouble with this chapter; I didn't enjoy writing it but I was like "oh this is what kinda needs to happen so I have to write it." And I think that comes across, lol.
But anyway thank you so much!! I really value your opinion and feedback, and I agree with you on everything.



Sins says...


It's not late-ish at all, don't sweat it! I'm glad I could be of use :) I totally get the whole going the other extreme thing because I always fall into that trap. Finding that balance can be tricky! Just play around with things and you'll be fine. Even just taking the characters' names away could work with the 'feeling full but not confusing' thing because then as readers, we don't think 'uh oh, better remember all these guys' y'know?

Anywho, for a chapter you forced yourself to write, it's goddamn good! Keep at it :)



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Fri Apr 22, 2016 7:41 pm
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Rydia wrote a review...



Hello! I'm going to avoid reading my previous review for now and see what strikes me about the chapter from a fresh viewpoint.

Specifics

1. I think the first sentence could be more direct; it's a little passive at the moment. Maybe something like: 'There she was, the woman who would be his wife.' The second sentence has a similar kind of flow - there are small words which are slowing it down which could easily be removed, like:

She was sitting across from him on the couch and a smile was playing on played over her lips.

2.

“As I was saying,” he said, [Maybe use continued instead?] “once I’ve invested the money and we’ve opened up the Nice and Marseilles stores – and of course, I’ll have full ownership, you know – in a year or two I’ll be making a very handsome monthly income.”


3.
He realized he was leaning heavily against the back of the couch. How much had he drunken drunk throughout the night? He felt exhausted. The yellow lights around the room were spinning.


4.
“Do you like the wine?” he heard her say. He opened his eyes and tried to find her. She hadn’t moved; she still standing in front of him.
This needs to either be 'she was still standing' or 'she still stood'.

5.
His body slumped further backwards unto into the couch and the glass dropped from his hand, spilling red wine onto the beige carpet below.


6.
At the back of the house, she stepped through an open doorway to the patio outside. It was partially enclosed by an overhanging roof, a wall to her left, and the back of the house behind her. The remaining two sides opened up onto the manicured lawn atop the hill. In front of them the harbor and sea stretched out endlessly. The full moon alight on the water and the twinkle of ships’ lights scattered across the harbor. The summer air was warm – warm enough to make night the only bearable time to be outside.


7.
She then looked to the pair standing at the edge of the lawn. She was pleased to see Jacqueline and Monsieur Girand together. They had been gravitating towards each other since they had been introduced at the beginning of the month. He was a man worthy of attention. Early thirties, atheistically aesthetically pleasing – more due to the upright way he held himself than to his rather average height and light brown hair – and involved in trade and industry all across the southern coast.


8.
Adele, on the other hand, would have been much too bold, much too clever, and perhaps too striking for his traditional mores.
I'm not sure what mores means here?

9.
Adele didn’t answer immediately, and the other girl turned again to look at her. Adele condensed condescended to meet her eyes, and then gave the smallest shrug of one shoulder. “It wasn’t wholly unsatisfying.”


10.
Neither said anything further. A Breton servant opened the front doors for them, leading them through to the curved road outside.


11.
They left the carriage windows open and the warm salty air flew past them. It was less than a mile to the house, and the bumpy ride passed quickly. Jacqueline yawned as she waited for Nicolas to help Adele out of the carriage first.


12.
She then turned to Jacqueline, standing patiently beside her. The blonde girl stiffed stifled another yawn as she returned her gaze. “You have errands to run tomorrow?” Adele asked.


13.
Running her hand almost tenderly across the cover, she opened the book and flipped to a specific page. Adele took a small piece of paper from the desk and wrote a single line in Latin. They had no need of code or further carefulness; she just thought it blasphemy to mare mar Tacitus’s words with the superfluousness of French.


14.
She blew on the ink and then deposited the small slip of paper to the open page and closed the book. After walking back to the bookcase, she replaced the Annals in its spot. Then, on the off-chance that a stray servant should notice her leaving the study, she removed another book at random and began the walk upstairs to her rooms.


Overall

I'm not sure if the drunk man is dead or merely passed out from having been drugged. I don't mind the not knowing too much and that scene's a nice highlight of this chapter but it runs a little bit slowly before and after that. I think the man's ramblings could be cut shorter - he's stuck somewhere between having my sympathy for being so clearly a fool and having me irritated because he is a fool. But he's not interesting enough to merit quite so much dialogue time!

I'm also not sure that enough happens on the ride back or when the other characters depart for bed. That part's a bit dull until Adele goes to the library so I wonder if there couldn't be something more interesting in their dialogue or a small side-plot introduced to help it along the way.

I like the scene at the very end of the party - the details of the bridge group and Jaqueline's man.

You have a tendency to use the wrong words so you may want to have a careful read through as I'm not sure I caught them all.

So in conclusion, this moves a little slowly or rather it has that passive, older style which fits the era but doesn't necessarily excite a modern reader. However, there's enough intrigue to carry the chapter and Adele is a fun character and the kind a reader will look forward to getting to know better.

Hope that helps!

~Heather




Attolia says...


Thank you so much Heather!! This was very, very helpful. I used to be notorious at misusing words -- it's good to see that hasn't changed, lol. Some of those I should have caught; others I never would have, despite knowing what all the words mean. I'm incorrigible. I'll try to be more careful in the future though.

She just drugged him - I tried to hint at that by saying he might start snoring? I thought my teenage self's version from years ago was too unrealistic -- aristocratic Adele basically killing people left and right, like it was a James Bond movie or something. So I'm trying to have her work for her father be more subtle. :) No killing, yet. And I'll try to make Moreau slightly less annoying and give him less airtime when I re-do this.

I totally see how it moves slowly. I actually wrote Chapter Two first, which is the chapter that excited me. This one was a chore for me to write and I see how it's kind of boring. With your comments in mind, I'll work on redoing parts of it later on.

Thanks again!! Very much appreciated.



Rydia says...


No problem and it could well be little pieces of memory leaking through which made me wonder if she'd killed him. I did wonder if the line about snoring was supposed to be serious or more ironic.

The subtle works well and I think once you cut it down a little, it will feel more exciting! :)



Attolia says...


Thank you again! I wrote Chapter Two before I had your and Skins's advice, so you might run into some of the same problems there (which you won't if I post another chapter after this), but I would love if you could review Chapter Two as well? I've posted it. Thanks in advance if you can xx



Rydia says...


Of course! I'll take a look tonight and see if it's short enough for today's review but I'll grab it at the weekend either way for sure :)



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Thu Apr 21, 2016 3:29 pm
PoeticCowboy wrote a review...



This is a good story that you have going to far and I like it. The title of the book kind of threw me off and attracted me to this book. The critiques that I had was in the first part of the story I did not get the book and it was more like a Short story in the first part. But as the story went on, I could see that it was turning into a book. This book in my opinion could go a long ways without having any troubles with ideas and the plot. The one part that I also did not understand was the setting of the story and the lavishness of the building that you described. Other than that it was a Fantastic story and I hope you write more please!

~PoeticCowboy




Attolia says...


Thanks! I appreciate you taking the time to look this over. The setting for this chapter was upper-class France, right before the First World War.




This report, by its very length, defends itself against the risk of being read.
— Winston Churchill