Young Writers Society

i loved every single second of reading this it sounded like a professionaly published book.

As before, I am beat to the best of the editing by others. *sigh* Ah, well, at least I can still enjoy this wonderful piece. I hope you won't ask me to stop posting just because I never say anything useful: I normally do, it's just that after an INCAN edit, what can little old me hope to add?

This was so fun to read ^_^

Like I said on MSN: I think your characters are being gobbled up by description. Or perhaps a better word is smothered? They're there, and they are very well characterized and all (I loved hearing Ajax background, and seeing how it affected them) but we can't see your characters through all the pretty words and very precise details. I love the details! But who wants details and content without characters?

Of course, my stories practically hang off of dialog, so you might be getting a very biased opinion. In any case, either even it out or cut back, IMO. But I do love your descriptions..they are so fun!

I still kind of felt like I was reading through mud. Still not entirely sure why yet.

'Lo, again, Jack! The same things go for this as the other, feel free to send up a flag at any vague or obtuse-ness. Also, I probably have stated something in here that someone (probably Brad) had already said, forgive that.

Ach, Brad hit the editing aspects I was emphasising. Ah well.

I'll go over some of them despite it, and then skip on to other things.

[Characters, it seems]

Firstly, I'll reiterate: The introduction of Ajax in comparison to his flat was excellent. Sans the fact of brief sentence confusion (Brad notes), it managed more than one thing - illustrating setting, character and bringing both into sharper focus by attitude/habits. I've got a nice, clean sense (no sardonic pun) of Ajax, and it keeps up throughout, with his dialogue and your interjected description.

[b]Pythias[/i] on the other hand, comes out a little blurred around the edges. Yes, he's younger. Yes, he's taller. Apparently, he can't hop debris in middle of a room so soon after waking; and he has unruly hair. Deft details, apart from anything else - but I really felt there was more about Pyth I'd like to know; really, quite a character there.


All right then - back to the structure and all that.

The long day ahead seemed less scary when the alcohol swam through his system, and his breathing relaxed with slow inhalation of his rolled-up smokes. It was needed.

He ruffled through his silvery hair and splashed cold water all over, before cutting through his shagged jaw line.

There was a crash and a curse. Pythias must be up.

Less skilled at avoiding the culminating minefield on their carpet, [s]there were more muffled curses as[/s] Pythias made his way toward Ajax, who was studying himself in the cracked mirror still, his face breaking up in more than one way.

“You been hitting that damn bottle again? I can smell it.”

“It’s all over the flat, kiddo,” Ajax said. “You can always smell it.” It was true: from the mattresses to the curtains to the wooden surfaces, the ever present flavour of alcohol clung to the air.

The bags were [s]already[/s] ready, and they strapped them on.

These weren’t just stalls or fountains. These were excited merchants chattering and water showering statues of Apollo and Aphrodite and Hermes.

As the pair hit the main road, which aimed straight for the Agora, the market, [s]thought it wouldn’t matter for every road eventually led the way,[/s] Ajax kept his head up.

Ajax and Pythias, where they had once been accompanied by homeless dogs and sleeping tramps, were now just blood cells riding the vein back to the heart.

Because there was nowhere else in Opus that could possibly be described as [s]its[/]s the city's? beating heart [s]than[/s] but the Agora.

Pythias barely looked up [s]and[/s] to register[s]ed[/s] them, deep in his own thoughts, but Ajax would always marvel at the breadth of advertising and marketing that flickered day and night.

Pythias smiled for the first time all morning and winked. “Well, we don’t need to afford it,” he said, and got up, and took a deep breath. “We’re robbing it.”

I've printed out both the prologue and this to look over and jot on. I finished the prologue, and as soon as I get home from work, I'll get this done and scan them in.
Cal.

That was some unbelievably awesome, Brad. You've basically taken away a whole session of editing for me, picked up on almost eveything that I need to change, and helped me immensely.

And, I got another. My lucky day, huh?

Thanks again! All of that will go in my next redraft of this chapter.

Hi Jack,


Here's the low-down.
Things in [blahblahblah] should be removed.
Things in (blahblahblah) should be added.
Things in blahblahblah should be reconsidered/rephrased.
* denotes an in-line comment.

Mkay?



1

[Considering the last week,] Ajax found it reasonable to drink two glasses of undiluted wine and smoke three cigarettes for [his] breakfast. The long day ahead seemed less scary when the alcohol swam through hi[s system](m), and his breathing relaxed with (a) slow inhalation of his rolled-up smokes. It was [needed](necessary?).

*You have a continuity issue. Above you describe his breakfast. Below he is just getting out of bed.

The sun had barely risen. Clad in nothing but (only his?) boxers, Ajax stood up and wandered through the flat, avoiding the obstacles: the abandoned bottles, the forever(-)damp stains, [and] the mountain range of small rubbish piles.

*I'm not entirely certain what a "small rubbish pile" is...

He tiptoed through to the bathroom and [faced] (looked) himself in the mirror. [Ajax] (He) decided to shave. His face [fitted] (was the perfect companion to) the cheap, stinking flat – dark shadows (that rolled) under his eyes, rough hair all over, minor cuts and yellowy bruises mapping [what was] a rugged continent. He ruffled through his silvery hair and splashed cold water all over[,] before cutting through his shagged jaw line.

There was a crash and a curse. Pythias must be up.

Less skilled at avoiding the culminating minefield [on] (in? I'm uncertain, minefields are in, not on; likewise, you could use "across"--a good compromise) the[ir] carpet, there were more muffled curses as Pythias made his way towards Ajax, who was studying himself in the cracked mirror still, his face breaking up in more than one way.

*This entire sentence bothers me. It needs to be tightened up by maybe five or six words. That or somehow try splitting it into two sentences? Something needs to be done, because the assonance of the words you've used coupled with the length of the line bog the reader down.

Grunting [followed the curses] (ensued), and several stumbles later[,] Ajax saw Pythias rubbing his head behind him.

“You been hitting that damn bottle again? I can smell it.”

“It’s all over the flat, kiddo,” Ajax said. “You can always smell it.” It was true: from the mattresses to the curtains to the wooden surfaces, the ever(-)present flavour of alcohol clung to the air.

*Perhaps consider that last phrase in the following way: "the flavour of alcohol clung to the molecules in the air"--remember, you're giving a description of a dank and presumably mildew-y place. Your descriptions shouldn't fall into grand hyperboles such as "ever present flavour," which, by the way, barely makes sense in this case.

“You know what I mean.(" Pythias said, shaking his head, his unruly hair bouncing with it.) "This early, old man? That’s crazy, especially today. [Pythias said, shaking his head, his unruly hair bouncing with it.] I need you on your game.”

“Hell, today’s the reason I did it.” Ajax walked past the taller figure of Pythias and dropped down onto one of the broken chairs, its [lost] arm collapsed by its side. They said nothing else. There was no need. Simply the dark look in both their eyes was answer enough. “Smoke?” Ajax offered.

Pythias shrugged and took the cigarette and they lit up.

*IMHO, this is too abrupt a shift of Pythias' character. He throws objections up to Ajax behavior, but without regret indulges his pathology. You may want to include some sort of remorse or reluctance on Pythias's part.

The air (quickly) turned grey and lingered that musty colour for a while. “We ain’t got much time. Market opens early, so we gotta be there early. No need to delay the inevitable.”

Ajax took a long drag. “You got all the gear ready?”

Pythias nodded. “Everything’s ready to roll.” A pause. An awkward one. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

*Okay, I know this is me just being nit-picky, but "ready to roll" seems out of place in this story so far. It's idiosyncratic for a hipster, perhaps, but I suspect Pythias is not such a character. Maybe with a little more character development it would make sense, but at present, I think you need something more rugged.

Instead of answering the question, Ajax rolled his head sideways, keeping the cigarette in his mouth, and gazed out at the stretched-out city.

*The word "out" occurs twice in this sentence. It's awkward.

Roads originating from a central hill rolled out like points of a star[,] from the pivotal areas to the periphery on the outskirts. At the centre of the metropolitan [star] (find a different word; repetition is annoying), tucked beneath the rugged edges of the acropolis (same thing here, "metropolitan" followed so closely by "acropolis" is clunky-sounding and stops the flow of the narrative. Perhaps you should just consider axing the "metropolitan star" image?), the [rainbow] (rainbow doesn't describe fluorescent, other way around) fluorescent (rainbow) colours of neon signs lit the morning dim. The market place, despite the lack of daylight, still glittered – it was where the city resided, whatever the time. Ajax didn’t want to see it. He closed his eyes. “I used to have a kid, you know. Weedy little thing. Glasses. Could never pronounce ‘th’. He always said it like an ‘f’. It was cute. I miss him. We always went to the park, me, him and June,” Ajax said, his head drifting to another place, with pictures of flowers and sunshine. He stopped mid-sentence and half-smiled at the memory.

*His dialogue is too brisk. Just try saying it--you wouldn't say it all at once. There would be pauses. You need to other combine sentences or add some sort of pause between them so that things don't fall on top of each other.

“I used to chase him through the grass and the woods. He never stopped running, that kid. Never. [It] (That) was before we got into all this nonsense. [Before all this.]”

Pythias spoke softly. “I know.”

*Personally, I'd just like to know a little bit more about what Pythias is feeling in this moment. He speaks softly--why? There's no real indication, and while we can grasp at straws, that's ultimately all your readers can do.

“I don’t even know if he’s alive anymore. Does that make me not ready for this? Zeus knows. I don’t think I’d ever be ready for this.” Ajax talked in a fragmented daze, his words slipping out rather than being spoken, his voice cracking. “How can any man?” He coughed. His whole chest visibly moved.

“We got no choice,” Pythias [said] (urged? insisted? said is too inactive for how I imagine this coming out). “We gotta do this. Once it’s over with, we can pay him the money and he’ll leave us alone. We can go anywhere but here. Get away. Start up our own little business, take orders from nobody but us.”

Ajax laughed, but it was not one of mirth. It was hollow and frightening. “You think this’ll be it? Hell, Pyth, I thought you were smarter than that.”

They put out the butts and threw them on[to] one of the higher peaks in the spine of trash mountains. Both of them dressed in black.

*Pronoun confusion! "They" previously referred to cigarette butts.

The bags were already ready, and they strapped them on. Ajax checked the gun, flicking out the magazine once more and reloading it in again.

*Awkward structure. "Reloading it in" doesn't make much sense. I get what's going on--Ajax is replacing the cartridge--but the description here is terribly awkward.

There were only two bullets. If all went to plan, they would only need two bullets[, Ajax figured]. He sheathed his daggers inside his coat and [in his] boot.

When they exited the apartment building, the cool morning [carried on] (forced) the process of waking. It stung their skin(,) and they walked quickly to throw off the cold. The street seemed full already. Ajax knew that in Opus, it always seemed that way. Even at night, there were beggars and night-dwellers covering the gaps that the darkness had revealed and the day had concealed – there was vigour and electricity charging the pavements and the roads. These weren’t just stalls or fountains. These were excited merchants chattering and water showering statues of Apollo and Aphrodite and Hermes.

*Okay, so, this is an abrupt scene change. I understand that we need to move to something other than the previous scene, but a sentence or two describing what they see would be good. I had previously thought their flat was a distance from the town since they could see its origin out their window, but I wonder that I was misconstruing what was being said? In any case, I'd reconsider this.

As the pair hit the main road[, which] (that) aimed straight for the Agora, the market, [thought it wouldn’t matter for every road eventually led the way, Ajax kept his head up. (It wouldn't matter how they travelled. Every road eventually led the way.) Pythias was ignoring the world, keeping his head down, moving to the shadows that the rising sun hadn’t yet destroyed – underneath the closed shop roofs, alongside the bricked walls, behind the trees.

*Behind the trees? Or under them?

But Ajax wanted to take it all in; from the boys grinning and running ahead of their parents[,] to the couples turning into small gatherings turning into talkative clusters turning into a constant throng of legs and arms and heads. Ajax and Pythias, where they had once been accompanied by homeless dogs and sleeping tramps, were now just blood cells riding the vein back to the heart.

Because there was nowhere else in Opus that could possibly be described as [its] (the city's) beating heart (other) than the Agora.

Even though by the time they could see the waiting doors swinging back and forth (and) the sun had illuminated almost every[where] (thing), there was still something bright, or maybe warming, about the old, recognisable neon signs that adorned the outer walls of the Agora. Pythias barely looked up and registered them, deep in his own thoughts, but Ajax would always marvel at the breadth of advertising and marketing that flickered day and night.

Inside, the air was dead.

*Ouch. Abrupt, once more, and not because of the scene change--this time it's your wording. "Dead" drops off and cuts the reader's breath in half. "Stale" might be a better word.

The myriads of alleys and corridors filtered through to the courtyard, [resplendent in sunshine]. There were wooden benches, and though most of them were occupied (somehow shoppers were already tired)(,) Ajax and Pythias shuffled onto one.

“There it is,” Pythias said, nodding toward the corner shop[,] snugly fitted between two larger stores. Jewellery glittered in the windows.

“Aye,” Ajax replied. “Don’t think I’ve ever been in a jeweller before. Could never afford it. What rings or other stuff I needed I got from the cheaper stalls.”

Pythias smiled for the first time all morning and winked. “Well, we don’t need to afford it,” he said[,] (as he) and got up[,] and took a deep breath. “We’re robbing it.”

*Again, abruptness is an issue. I would, being what I am, prefer a less direct method for explaining what's about to happen. Consider: "Well, we don't need to afford it," he said as he got up and took a deep breath. "We just need to get in."


It was a pleasure to read and consider. Despite what my remarks may insinuate, I did enjoy it the entire way through. What I have done here is pointed out structural instead of functional difficulties--those are the correctable ones. Luckily, I saw no real functional difficulties except for that first paragraph, which seems out of place.


Thanks again! *lick*
Brad

I liked this. It was grammatically correct, and it kept my attention all the way through, which, considering I'm rather tired, is very good. One thing I would like to comment on is:

The bags were already ready...

Here we go a'critting...

Considering the last week, Ajax found it reasonable to drink two glasses of undiluted wine and smoke three cigarettes for his breakfast. The long day ahead seemed less scary when the alcohol swam through his system, and his breathing relaxed with slow inhalation of his rolled-up smokes. It was needed.

His face fitted the cheap, stinking flat

Instead of answering the question, Ajax rolled his head sideways, keeping the cigarette in his mouth, and gazed out at the stretched-out city. Roads originating from a central hill rolled out like points of a star, from the pivotal areas to the periphery on the outskirts. At the centre of the metropolitan star, tucked beneath the rugged edges of the acropolis, the rainbow fluorescent colours of neon signs lit the morning dim. The market place, despite the lack of daylight, still glittered – it was where the city resided, whatever the time.

As the pair hit the main road, which aimed straight for the Agora, the market, thought it wouldn’t matter for every road eventually led the way, Ajax kept his head up

Ajax and Pythias, where they had once been accompanied by homeless dogs and sleeping tramps, were now just blood cells riding the vein back to the heart.

There were wooden benches, and though most of them were occupied (somehow shoppers were already tired) Ajax and Pythias shuffled onto one.

Oy, 'tis longer than the prologue. I suppose I'll print it out - it'll make my remarks more comprehensive - and more reasonable - than if I rush through it here, off-the-cuff. ^_^''

I already like the characters though. Interesting fellow, Ajax - and I can't help getting a vivid image of him, compared to his flat, disordered and bruised.




IMP

[The sun had barely risen. Clad in nothing but boxers, Ajax stood up and wandered through the flat, avoiding the obstacles: the abandoned bottles, the forever damp stains, and the mountain range of small rubbish piles. He tiptoed through to the bathroom and faced himself in the mirror. Ajax decided to shave. His face fitted the cheap, stinking flat – dark shadows under his eyes, rough hair all over, minor cuts and yellowy bruises mapping what was a rugged continent. He ruffled through his silvery hair and splashed cold water all over, before cutting through his shagged jaw line.

There was a crash and a curse. Pythias must be up.] Great intro man this is awsome i like the character of pythias alot........ i want to read more when its finished and i got time.

Considering the last week, Ajax found it reasonable to drink two glasses of undiluted wine and smoke three cigarettes for his breakfast. The long day ahead seemed less scary when the alcohol swam through his system, and his breathing relaxed with slow inhalation of his rolled-up smokes. It was needed.

The sun had barely risen. Clad in nothing but boxers, Ajax stood up and wandered through the flat, avoiding the obstacles: the abandoned bottles, the forever damp stains, and the mountain range of small rubbish piles. He tiptoed through to the bathroom and faced himself in the mirror. Ajax decided to shave. His face fitted the cheap, stinking flat – dark shadows under his eyes, rough hair all over, minor cuts and yellowy bruises mapping what was a rugged continent. He ruffled through his silvery hair and splashed cold water all over, before cutting through his shagged jaw line.

Less skilled at avoiding the culminating minefield on their carpet, there were more muffled curses as Pythias made his way toward Ajax, who was studying himself in the cracked mirror still, his face breaking up in more than one way. Grunting followed the curses, and several stumbles later, Ajax saw Pythias rubbing his head behind him.

Pythias shrugged and took the cigarette and they lit up. The air turned grey and lingered that musty colour for a while. “We ain’t got much time. Market opens early, so we gotta be there early. No need to delay the fucking inevitable.”

Ajax didn’t want to see it. He closed his eyes. “I used to have a kid, you know. Weedy little thing. Glasses. Could never pronounce ‘th’. He always said it like an ‘f’. It was cute. I miss him. We always went to the park, me, him and June,” Ajax said, his head drifting to another place, with pictures of flowers and sunshine. He stopped mid-sentence and half-smiled at the memory. “I used to chase him through the grass and the woods. He never stopped running, that kid. Never. It was before we got into all this nonsense. Before all this."

They put out the butts and threw them onto one of the higher peaks in the spine of trash mountains. Both of them dressed in black. The bags were already ready, and they strapped them on. Ajax checked the gun, flicking out the magazine once more and reloading it in again. There were only two bullets. If all went to plan, they would only need two bullets, Ajax figured. He sheathed his daggers inside his coat and in his boot.

As the pair hit the main road, which aimed straight for the Agora, the market, thought it wouldn’t matter for every road eventually led the way, Ajax kept his head up. Pythias was ignoring the world, keeping his head down, moving to the shadows that the rising sun hadn’t yet destroyed – underneath the closed shop roofs, alongside the bricked walls, behind the trees. But Ajax wanted to take it all in; from the boys grinning and running ahead of their parents, to the couples turning into small gatherings turning into talkative clusters turning into a constant throng of legs and arms and heads. Ajax and Pythias, where they had once been accompanied by homeless dogs and sleeping tramps, were now just blood cells riding the vein back to the heart.