The whine of a badly-oiled hatch behind me heralded a visitor. Seems that I was not alone in my fancy to see Gwely's lava streams after all.
"Evening," I said. "It's a good day to spend outside, isn't it? The ash stirs downwind now. Someone told me earlier that Edna IV erupted."
"Don't remind me," the stranger sighed. The safety rails groaned in undeserved protest as he propped his small frame against them, next to me. "I made the mistake of going out up-wind once. Even though it was just for a minute, it took me a week to get the smell of sulfur out of my hair. But what a good day it is -- what a view!"
We stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the insectoid legs of the shambler dive in and out of the bleak ocean of volcanic ash. And there they were - faint, but definitely occurring pulses in the lava's flow.
After a sudden woeful groan from one of the legs, a violent tremor shook the shambler. Hearing the rattling of the machine's gears disengaging themselves from the main flywheel, I fastened my grip on the railing to brace for the upcoming stop. The shambler came to a halt, and rested in contemplative silence for a few seconds before resuming its course.
"Similar problems occurred the last time I travelled through here," I said. "The land below is irregular. Considering what's down there, it really is a wonder that they don't trip. Did you read what--"
The distant roar of a horn momentarily drowned my voice and the mechanical clashing of the driving apparatus beneath. The dark form emerging from the impenetrable wall of ash ahead soon adopted the shape of another shambler from Spondekai. I could not discern the black circle of its generator turbine on the front; the tame winds lacked the strength that the great propeller needed, leaving the machine to depend on its flywheel alone. After catching the sound of the fog horn, our shambler drifted to the side, allowing the larger one to pass by. Once again did I find myself reflecting on how they could do this without a pilot or any guidance at all.
"Did you read," I continued, "what the expedition to the surface found down there, beneath the ash?"
"Nothing," he said. "An acquaintance of mine was on the team, he told me before it was even in the papers. Just rocks, fissures, and plains. We've tried looking for them everywhere, and all we have are the shamblers and the hollowed out mountains."
He paused.
"He didn't say very much, which, if you knew my acquaintance, is rather odd of him - especially since this is the first time anyone has gone to the surface in the last three hundred months."
"Maybe there wasn't much to say," I said.
"Or maybe he didn't want to talk about it. I don't suppose I can blame him. To know that someone could have built these machines without leaving more of a trace than the mountain reservoirs..."
"...and all those are good for is the fish," I said, chuckling.
My companion appreciated the joke, and we were quick to discover mutual interest in grotto fishing. The conversation quickly steered to a discussion of whether Mount Vorbhodsen or Mount Svirkaide yielded the most sizable catch.
--- --- ---
The warmth of the nearby lava stream kept him safe from the cold hands of the wasteland. Its bubbling granted a relief from the monotonous, homogeneous din of the ashen wind. He had seen it happen before: people went deaf from hearing nothing but ash, and blind from seeing nothing but ash. They turned into senseless, mindless husks clinging to a dying seed of life. Fitting, he thought, for people to waste away just like these cities they must have once built to shelter themselves.
A sound came from the wasteland behind him - the faint but unmistakable crash of a Walking Thing's three-fingered foot, followed by other, advancing crashes. The Thing will be here shortly. Maybe it will crack open another building, like it did some time ago. Maybe it will just pass through without incident, like every day after that time. The structures built by forgotten hands crumbled away as inevitably as anything else - it was just a matter of waiting long enough.
Of course, as soon as the metal legs of the Walking Thing came close enough for others to hear, the fanatics woke up. Just one voice, then two, then three, then more. "All hail the walking god!" People screaming, howling like animals, throwing rocks at the Thing's legs. He wondered sometimes if that kind of adoration was appreciated by any self-respecting god. "Give unto us, Walking Thing!"
He could hear the crashing as if it was right above his head. No point in looking up; the Walking Thing was thus named for a reason - the ash prevented seeing any of its part, except the three pairs of rusted metallic legs with three fingers on each. Then came the new sound that caught his interest, warranting him to raise his head - an abrasive squeal, and the dull thunks of falling concrete.
The Thing stepped on an ancient collapsed building, previously sealed by its own rubble. A large part of its front wall shattered into a hail of airborne stone. The Walking Thing paused, its leg standing on its self-made altar, as if saying, "Look at me! Look at me! I gave unto you, as you asked!" Some fanatics writhed on the ground in ecstasy, while others tried to climb the Thing's leg to be thrown off later or to reach whatever fanatic heaven there is - either way, never to be seen again.
The hermits and the fanatics charged the building like hungry dogs. As the Thing walked away, he waited for the others to finish ravaging the supplies within - there was no rush for him, he knew of a hidden basement vault with much well-preserved food - and then came to gather his own. Furniture, dishes, strange things whose name and function were unknown to him - some barely disturbed, some broken apart by the jealous and the starving. Some things sparkled with the glow of the nearby lava river, but he held no interest for those. His wonder was much more humble.
And there they were - two brown rectangular objects, the top one of which crumbled to dust as he touched it. He instinctively drew his hand back in a flinch, but the one beneath it looked sturdier. Hiding it underneath his dust-cloak, he quickly left the building and returned to his hideaway before the lava river.
This one was much different from the rest - instead of the neat black symbols he was so used to, these were hastily scrawled and poorly understandable. Still - his father taught him how to read the neat ones, so maybe he will learn how to read these, as well. Maybe they, too, will speak to him of a world with so many colours.
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125,013 Literary Works • 672,844 Reviews
Hola carbonCore =) FallWolf here
From the description I thought this was going to be a badly made peice, but it's actually pretty good! For starteers, this is my train of thought as I read through:
First couple paragraphs "A bit foggey... Hmmm, sort of steampunk cool machine here! And this guy seems interesting..."
A little farther in "So these guys are like from floating cities? Is the whole world turned to ash? That would be cool! And... lava fish? Or are there large lakes as well as large deserts of lava? Hmmm, I'll have to use my imagination a lot here"
Under the ash "Oh wow, I totally knew this was going to happen! These people are really weird... how do they live with so much ash in the air? Maybe there's like a pocket of clean[ish] air under a cloud of heavy ash... that would make sense, especially since this guy is by some lava to keep warm. It would be really cold down there. And all these cities must be like an old civilization! Well, of course that's what they are silly... hey, this is sounding more and more like a sci fi. Still a good read, let's get on with it..."
At the end: "Awwww, that's it? This is a good story idea, I wish there was more..." *Starts making up whole book in head* "Woa! Can't do that, not your idea silly!"
I don't really know what to define this piece as! It is not a story exactly, but it is not an excerpt either. I am disappointed that there is no more about the world in which these characters are living or where the guys were fishing (or where they lived for that matter), but it is really cool as an imagination stimuli, and I enjoyed making up the fantastical world that I imagined the characters to be living in =)
Thanks for the review. Keep in mind, though, that this piece is seven years old (and it's been on this website for 5). I don't really have any recent writing, but I'm trying to change that.
Hello, Carbon.
Honestly, I thought your piece of work was very good. Although, there were a few things that confused me.
First, I would like to say that since I have only just joined YWS, this is my first review. Don't let that scare you though!
The first part that confused me was what exactly IS a shambler? Yes, this got cleared up in the other reviews written, but I would have liked to have found this out from the actual piece of work. My first impression of the shambler was that it looked like a ride that you could find at a carnival of sorts, the scrambler. I was glad that as I continued to read this image left my mind and was replaced with something else.
Then another thing that confused me was that in the first portion of your work I was unsure of where exactly the two characters were standing. Whether they were on one of the shamblers or if they were in a VERY large building that had a terrace-like area that came off it. This did get cleared up for me after I read through some of the earlier reviews, though.
Like many others who have reviewed this piece of work, I was baffled by the sudden scenery change. Although once I read on I realized that this new view was from the ground, below the shamblers. This part of the story made more sense to me that the first part did.
Try to add in little details that help to clarify a story. Even if it seems insignificant to you, it will help your audience understand what is going on. Over all, I think you did a very good job on this piece. It was an interesting work to read. Keep up the good work! I hope to see this story added on to.
~Rhonwenn
I'm new so this is the first story I've looked at. However I would've liked to hear more details about the shambler. Since it's something completely original I would've liked to have read a little more about it. Also, why weren't their any names mentioned? I didn't really get a clear picture in my head but otherwise it was quite entertaining.
Hullo, 'tis me.
This isn't a modal auxiliary, but shouldn't that be "gave" since "the flows were" is in past tense?First off, nit-picks. I won't go overboard with them, but there are a few things I'd like to point out. Not stylistic things--I'm pretty sure that this piece has been edited enough that even the parts that seem awkward to me are intentional--but technical things. Remember what I told you in The Unicorn about your use of auxiliary verbs? Well you're doing it again a few times here, in the second part of this story, and this time since it's in third person not first, you haven't really got an excuse. ^_~
I just have to point out that I love this section. I can't even describe how or why, but there's something about it that just... ah.
Aha! Here are some modal auxiliaries. Is this section supposed to be his thoughts or the narrative? If it's his thoughts, then it's fine just the way you have it (though I'd suggest making it italic or something) but if it's part of the narrative, then all those "will"s should be "would"s.
Those should be "would"s as well, and since this is clearly in third person here there isn't really the option of having it be his thoughts. If you keep them as "will"s then you are implying that it hasn't happened yet at the time of me reading this, which brings up the question of how my time relates to the time in the story, and lots of other messinesses.
---------------------------
I like this, cC. The world you have created is fascinating and feels very real. It feels kind of like it could be from one of those short films you'd show me--actually, the whole piece feels like it could be one of those short films. Especially the part with the Walking Thing and the zealots... very surreal and suggestive. The whole concept also feels like it could me a Miyazaki film--I think I've recommended him to you before, but if you haven't watched any of his work I highly recommend you do. Strange machines, environmental and religious messages... I think he would be right up your alley.
I know others have been at you for not describing enough, but while I love descriptive pieces as a rule, I don't think this needs description. I know you don't need me telling you this, since you've kept it this way anyway, but I think that if you'd had more descriptions it would have seemed like it was your characters' first times seeing all this. As it is, it makes me think that everything in the story is commonplace for them. Mentioning names without explaining, for example, really gives the sense that the world you are describing is a real place--since real places are too vast to describe in one short story, so why even try? It also makes me feel like I am part of the world, and I am expected to know these things. It's sort of a novel-writer's technique, I think. It's the ultimate triumph of showing over telling.
Because everyone is talking about the shamblers, I'd like to add in a word or two about them as well. Firstly, I don't really have a fair advantage because I saw Jenthura's blog post before I read the story (actually, his illustrations were part of what made me decide to read it). But when I was reading this I had a different idea of them in my head. I imagined them a lot more spindley, almost to the point of being absurd (which is interesting, seeing as I didn't see your comment on the blog until after I read this), and I imagined the cabins being perfectly spherical things perched high on the mechanical legs. I don't think you need more description of them in particular, but more spacial description would be nice.
It took me a while to understand what you meant by trips to the "surface" because I really didn't get a sense of the ground being that far away from civilization. Sure, I thought the shambler was tall, but I didn't realize that it wasn't just some sort of ride--if I understand correctly, the people on the shambler never go down, right? I think I'd like some more implications of how alien the idea of walking on the ground is to them. So. You do need more description of the shamblers, I think, but not visual descriptions--conceptual descriptions. I want to know what the main character thinks of them and their purpose.
I'm also curious about the main character (from the first part)'s expectations. I don't think this was his first time on a shambler. In fact, I think he goes on them a lot. But why, then, would he be thinking about nothing but the shambler and the lava and the ash? I got the sense (maybe wrongly) that this was something like a regular commute for him, like taking a bus or train or maybe airplane. That's why I liked the casual conversation with the stranger. But I'd like to see him think about something else (something personal, maybe?) in addition to thinking about his surroundings. Otherwise it makes it seem like he's only thinking at all for the sake of showing the world to the readers.
Now for the second part. At first, I was just about as confused as everyone else, I think. I wondered if the "he" in the second half was supposed to be the same character as the "I" from the first. I wondered where the heck the zealots had come from. I couldn't understand why the Walking Thing had appeared or, really, what it was at all.
But then, sometime in the middle of me writing the paragraph two before this one, it came to me. The Walking Thing is the shambler. The zealots and the hermits and "he" are people who live on the surface, looking up at the machinery of the people who live above them without understanding it. If I'm wrong about this interpretation, excuse me, but I love it. There is so much symbolism there to ponder. Yes. Very cool. Not something I'll forget anytime soon.
Neat story, cC. I'm intrigued by your world. Thank you for a most enjoyable read.
a
Hey, Carbon! I'm here as you requested.
This sentence is a bit too packed in my opinion. In it, we find out that:
- the shambler rocked
- it almost lulled the narrator to sleep
- there's place called the cliff town of Spondekai
- the narrator has just arrived there
- the fact that s/he's arrived there keeps her/him awake
See what I mean? That's quite a lot of information to have between a capital letter and a period.
I feel the need to point this one out, because it's bothering me. You cut the narrator's speech, and he says that the voice was drowned by the horn, and we never find out how the sentence would have ended. However, this story is written in first person, so isn't it kind of weird how the sentence is cut off? It's as if the narrator themselves didn't hear/know what he was going to say. And it couldn't have been that he himself stops mid-sentence without going to finish, since he says "--drowned my voice" -- therefore he had finished the sentence, but no one else could hear it because of the horn.
Really, all you'll need to do is finish the sentence. You can still say "drowned my voice" or you can specify it with something "drowned the last words" or something. Sorry for going all OCD on you. I just needed to get that out!
Ah, here we go -- sentence finished! You can replace this one with a simple "I repeated my question."
'Three hundred months' seems an odd way of counting the time%u2026 is there a specific reason why you chose to write that?
Very nice. I like this part a lot.
Eh? Feet have toes, you know%u2026 xD Again, I'd like to know if there's a specific reason behind this word choice.
*
So, that's it for the nitpicks. I think you're a good writer -- your text is pleasant and easy to read, and your descriptions are vivid, but not in-your-face. One thing you might want to pay attention to is what I referred to in my first nitpick: sometimes your sentences get not necessarily too long, but too informative. As one Tumblr blogger said (can't remember her name right now!): "Sentences are not mini-vans." I think that's such a good quote!
I liked the first part a lot. I would actually click the "Like" button right now, but I'm still a little confused by the second part -- I'm not quite sure what happened there. So, basically a "like" for the first part, and an almost "like" for the second. I was a little confused in the end, but in general, I think this was good!
Demeter
x
I'm scratching my head for some time now. Maybe you didn't describe more details since its in a fantasy world...So, that could be the cause i'm feeling abit awkward
Hiyaz =)
Im Aly and I'll review =)
I like color so any mistakes i find will be in color
The shambler gently rocked, almost lulling me to sleep, but the knowledge of my arrival to the cliff town of Spondekai kept me stark awake. Besides, I would hate to miss passing over the flaming rivers of Gwely's resident volcano, although most folk say that a web of orange-red streaks is only interesting to see once. But something else attracted me here; the knowledge of how far away the flows were, perhaps, or the barely perceptible pulse they give off, like the veins of a living creature.
The whine of a badly-oiled hatch behind me heralded a visitor. Seems that I was not alone in my fancy to see Gwely's lava streams after all.
"It's a good day to spend outside," I said, starting the conversation.#FF0000 ">(Now I'm very confused, who is talking? And if it is the same person put a comma before isn't) "Isn't it? I think it was yesterday's Edna VI eruption that stirred the ash the other way."
"Don't remind me," the stranger said. The safety rails groaned in undeserved protest as he propped his small frame against them, taking position beside me. "I made the mistake of going out up-wind once. Even though it was just for a minute, it took me a week to get the smell of sulphur#FF0000 ">(sulfur) out of my hair."
We stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the insectoid legs of the shambler dive in and out of the bleak ocean of volcanic ash. And there they were - faint, but definitely occurring pulses in the lava's flow.
After a sudden woeful groan from one of the legs, a violent tremor shook the shambler. Hearing the rattling of the machine's gears disengaging themselves from the main flywheel, I fastened my grip on the railing to brace for the upcoming stop. The shambler came to a halt, and rested in contemplative silence for a few seconds before resuming its course.
"Similar problems occurred the last time I travelled through here," I said. "The land below is irregular. Considering what's down there, it really is a wonder that they don't do that more often. Did you read what--"
The distant roar of a horn momentarily drowned my voice and the mechanical clashing of the driving apparatus beneath. The dark form emerging from the impenetrable wall of ash ahead soon adopted the shape of another shambler from Spondekai. I could not discern the black circle of its generator turbine on the front; the tame winds appeared to lack the strength that the great propeller needed, leaving the machine to depend on its flywheel alone. After catching the sound of the fog horn, our shambler drifted to the side, allowing the larger one to pass by. Once again did I find myself reflecting on how they could do this without a pilot or any sort of guidance at all.
"Did you read," I continued, "what the expedition to the surface found down there, beneath the ash?"
"Nothing," he said. "An acquaintance of mine was on the team#FF0000 ">(Quotation missing!!), he told me before it was even in the papers.#FF0000 ">(Quotation?) Just rocks, fissures, and plains. We've tried looking for them everywhere, and all we have are the shamblers and the hollowed out mountains."
He paused.
"He didn't say very much, which, if you knew my acquaintance, is rather odd of him - especially since this is the first time anyone has gone to the surface in the last three hundred months."
"Maybe there wasn't much to say," I said.
"Or maybe he didn't want to talk about it. I don't suppose I can blame him. To know that someone could have built these machines without leaving more of a trace than the mountain reservoirs..."
"...and all those are good for is the fish," I said, chuckling.
My companion appreciated the joke, and we were quick to discover mutual interest in grotto fishing. The conversation quickly steered to a discussion of whether Mount Vorbhodsen or Mount Svirkaide yielded the most sizable catch.
--- --- ---
The warmth of the nearby lava stream kept him safe from the cold hands of the wasteland. Its bubbling granted a relief from the monotonous, homogeneous din of the ashen wind.#0000FF ">(New paragraph) He had seen it happen before: people went deaf from hearing nothing but ash, and blind from seeing nothing but ash. They turned into senseless, mindless husks clinging to a dying seed of life. Fitting, he thought, for people to waste away just like the cities they once built to shelter themselves.
A sound came from the wasteland behind him - the faint but unmistakable crash of a Walking Thing's three-fingered foot, followed by other, advancing crashes. The Thing will be here shortly. Maybe it will crack open another building, like it did some time ago. Maybe it will just pass through without incident, like every day after that time. The dead structures built by forgotten hands crumbled away as inevitably as anything else - it was just a matter of waiting long enough.
Of course, as soon as the metal legs of the Walking Thing came close enough for others to hear, the zealots woke up. Just one voice, then two, then three, then more. "All hail the walking god!" People screaming, howling like animals, throwing rocks at the Thing's legs. He wondered sometimes if that kind of adoration was appreciated by any self-respecting god. "Give unto us, Walking Thing!"
He could hear the crashing as if it was right above his head. No point in looking up; the Walking Thing was thus named for a reason - the ash prevented seeing any of its part, except the three pairs of rusted metallic legs with three fingers on each. Then came the new sound that truly caught his interest, warranting him to raise his head - an abrasive squeal, and the dull thunks of falling concrete.
The Thing stepped on an ancient collapsed building, previously sealed by its own rubble. A large part of its front wall shattered into a hail of airborne stone. The Walking Thing paused, its leg standing on its self-made altar, as if saying, "Look at me! Look at me! I gave unto you, as you asked!" Some zealots writhed on the ground in ecstasy, while others tried to climb the Thing's leg to be thrown off later or to reach whatever zealot heaven there is - either way, never to be seen again.
The starved hermits and the mad zealots charged the building like rabid dogs. As the Thing walked away, he waited for the others to finish ravaging the supplies within - there was no rush for him, he knew of a hidden basement vault with much well-preserved food - and then came to gather his own. Furniture, dishes, strange things whose name and function were unknown to him - some barely disturbed, some broken apart by the jealous and the hungry. Some things sparkled with the glow of the nearby lava river, but he held no interest for those. His wonder was much more humble.
And there they were - two brown rectangular objects, the top one of which crumbled to dust as he touched it. He instinctively drew his hand back in a flinch, but the one beneath it looked sturdier. Hiding it underneath his dust-cloak, he quickly left the building and returned to his hideaway before the lava river.
This one was much different from the rest - instead of the neat black symbols he was so used to, these were hastily scrawled and poorly understandable. Still - his father taught him how to read the neat ones, so maybe he will learn how to read these, as well. Maybe they, too, will speak to him of a world with so many colours.
#4040FF ">I flipping love your story line!!! Keep writing!!!!!! =D
But it was good. I bet that Walking Thing is the shambler that those other two are on.
The different perspectives are interesting. On the one hand there are the surface-dwellers who scavenge in the dust and ash and somehow manage to survive, then you essentially have cloud-dwellers. Thinking about it, this is sort of a contrast between the rich and the poor, with neither really knowing the other. Or it could be people taking their surroundings for granted. Either way, the tone is eerie and it almost sounds hopeless. Very good.
Hola:) Review as requested!
and still have had the desired effect.My first impression of this was cool. As a writer that likes to attack my readers with unnecessary amounts of description, I've come to really appreciate the minimalist style, so this piece really struck a good chord with me. I was hooked the moment I started reading, and up until the last sentence was entranced. Despite how other reviewers have responded to the lack of information, I felt that you gave just enough detail to set the tone, and that's really all a reader needs. I felt immersed in this world from the first few lines; I could've sworn the lighting in my room got a little more gray and hazy. An entire color palate of charcoals set off by vivid oranges and reds instantly came to mind, and then with your hints at the technology of this world, I felt that I had all the needed elements to create your world inside my head.
I will say that the transition from the pair atop the shambler to the citizens below was a little awkward. I felt that the final paragraph of the first half could've ended with something a little more...haunting? I liked the casual feel of the conversation between the two people and how they were talking about something so mundane (in my opinion) as fishing while surrounded by such a bleak and hellish world, but that last sentence didn't do much for me. I thought that it could've easily ended with
Weirdly, my only other complaint is in the second line. The image that was immediately formed in my head by "orange-red streaks" was a sunset for some reason. I know that at the beginning of the sentence you're talking about the lava flows, but with such a strong image drawn up by "web" I felt that you could've accompanied it with a more descriptive word. Yeah, that's ridiculously picky, but whatever.
So yeah, again, I really enjoyed this. I love reading your little clips like this and Alice. Even with a low word count you're still able to create such intriguing worlds, and I find that I'm still thinking about this piece a while after I first read it. :] Very nice work.
Much loves,
Bunny
First off, I think this was really good.
1) what is a shmabler?
2)maybe the Walking thing should have a cooler name.lol.
Well that's it! I think you should keep writing!
Loved the story, Carbon!
First, I'll start off with saying: I liked that you described everything with minimal details. I love writers who do that, because it leaves so much to the imagination, so every interpretation is different (who wants to see things the same static way as everyone else?). It's the way I try to write, though I'm not very good at it yet.
I thought it was interesting that the two parts of the story were taking place at the same time, like both people were MCs. To me, it implies that they will meet at some future time, which I think would be cool (two different people, with two different lifestyles, how do they react to each other?). I thought it was kind of funny that the people who lived outside of the shamblers were actually worshipping them in their strange way. It reminded me of a story I heard (can't remember where); some tribe on an island worshipped American airforce planes because they made a base their, and dropped off food and supplies in return, so they built wooden replicas of the planes in hopes of the "gods" gifting them again.
I would like to know what happens to the zealots that make it to the top of the shamblers' legs. Are they taken in or what? You could probably mention that they are in the first part if so, and if not...I guess we can just assume they dropped to their deaths...though I sincerly hope not.
It was kind of cool that people went blind and deaf from only listening to and seeing ash so constantly, in the way that it seemed like a new medical thing...kind of like snow blindness. It kind of seems like the blind part was based off that.
Great idea with the one-word title, too. I clicked on the story because I wanted to find out why it was called "Ash." After that, it just captured my attention with the loose, imagination-encouraging, creative, original story-ness. I could picture everything, and considering the setting everyone was in, the characters started out really believable.
Great job.
A little confusing but that might just be me... It took me a while to get what a Shambler was and whatnot
Other than what I've pointed out, the story is quite fine. It's fairly interesting, however, it bothers me that I don't know the names of either of the three characters you've introduced. Aren't they central to the story?
Are you going to post another chapter of this? I'd read it. I'm a bit confused with all the shambler talk; I know nothing about boats so I can't tell if it is an actual boat or something of your creation. But this seems promising. Great job, and KEEP WRITING!
TIGERSPRITE
Hey, excellent point of view spin from the high-tech inheritors to the crazed survivors!
And obviously meet up with the first protagonist and stuff.
I think the descriptions are quite enough, maybe about 15% of people's faces and clothes missing, but it's quite as it is now. Richer descriptions qould be warranted if this was ever to grow into a novella or a novel. Ever to grow into a novella or a novel. Ever to grow into a novella or a novel. Is there an echo in here? Ever to grow into a novella or a novel. Ahem.
A good short story in the venerable tradition of Clarke and Asimov and youngsters with undried milk on their lips like David Brin and such. But really, the second part of the story introduces a protagonist begging to be given another 10-20K for developement
Anyway, consider this an official invitation: when, fired up by a concept or an image, you start feeling your way around a story arc for something the size of the things in the edvanced critiques section, share. I'll give my input. I may be tragically missing some major grammar glands, but as compensation I can plot a novel or a novella at the drop of a hat. Ever yours, count Naplmerski-Machetovich
Hey, Carbon. Here to review
My apologizes for being late, I've been busy lately.
Also, may I take a second to compliment you?
I think your writing skill is great. Also, your actions and words are always varied and non-repetitive which makes reading the piece fun. You've got yourself a fan.
However! I noticed a slightly excessive use of "I said" in your piece. I know how dialogue tags roll but it would have been nice to see some more variations with this. Plus, it'd give your characters a bit more life. Right now it's a bit boring to read. Nothing compared to your previous piece, "The law of Moses", which I found to be quite exciting.
As I have read previously, you stated that you wanted to excite the imagination, therefore you didn't go deep into the descriptions, yadda-yadda. Although, I do think that are some points where you could have expanded your descriptions and meaning a bit more. Shambler is a good place to start. I honestly had no idea what you meant by that, was it an earthquake, a yeti? (blame google)
So, I actually had to go back and read this twice to understand where you were getting at. What I'm trying to say is, maybe you should have paid a little more attention to the bigger things. We need to know what kind of mechanism it is. Possibly give us more descriptions to play with our imaginations instead of stating what it is. Work more around the edges, I suppose. I think this could have worked out if you expanded this more and made it slightly easier to understand.
The thing that tangled my mind into a knot was not only the vague descriptions but the exotic names you used in the beginning. They kind of made me confused since I didn't know what they were talking about. The nice thing is, the more I read this again and again, the easier and more exciting it becomes to picture. Although, I still think you could have done much better. Maybe...I haven't read anything of this sort before so my review is a bit opinionated.
For me, it seemed like the second part of this piece was easier to understand and read than the first. Not quite sure why, though. Nonetheless, I think this is an interesting piece and I did enjoy reading this and trying to imagine this world with your neat descriptions. While reading it, I actually pictured a very 'epic' like movie scene. CGI and all, I have no idea why but it was interesting.
I'm sorry if I wasn't much help here. If you ever need me again, you know where to go!
All the best,
-Shear
Ok. Well all I can say about this story, is that it is ok. I am not trying to be critical, but it doesn't capture attention. There is nothing there that screams, READ ME! You didn't give any details about the main character, or why he was there. You just talked about the volcano errupting. I would have spent more time telling about why he was there, little details make the whole story.
You have very nice vocabulary, the only thing I didn't like was the shambler or whatever it was called. That is an earthquake, so it makes little sense here. It messes with the scenery, I never knew where you were. I think that would be easily fixed if you said, oh this is what that is.
I didn't really notice anything else that jumped out saying fix me or don't. It is a good story, you just need a strong hook.
I hope I helped, and I hope your opinion of my reivews is still high.
-Flow-
Oh, ok. I must have missed that part. I guess I shouldn't read and review an hour before class starts. The painting looks like something my Art Theory class would critique. Thank you for answering those questions and being patient about it. I haven't really reviewed anything except non-fiction papers before, so I'm still figuring out the process.
The piece is meant to be a minimalistic one-shot, meant mostly to excite the imagination with a strange world. Describing a shambler in detail would be a waste; I provided just enough information so you have a rough idea of what it looks like, and so your mind would fill in the rest. It is tall, very tall, because lava rivers are said to look "bleak" when looking down from it, and no part of it can be seen from the ground other than the legs; it has three pairs of legs (that's six); it is rusty and therefore metallic; it is automatic (no pilot and no guidance) and fully mechanical (as you never see any evidence of electricity being used anywhere on board, just rattling of gears and some kind of flywheel and a turbine). If you absolutely must know more, I used this painting (slightly NSFW) as inspiration for the machines in the story.
What do you think they look like, considering the tone of the piece?
That it is. I was hoping to demonstrate this conclusively by mentioning "insectoid legs" in the first part. The two parts are related to each other, the first part takes place on the shambler and the second part takes place on the ground below the shambler.
Again, all this is implied with the tone of the story. These are people squatting next to a lava river to keep them warm in the middle of a ruined, collapsed city. They pounce on supplies like "rabid dogs", and the viewpoint character is mentioned having a "dust cloak". This does not conjure up any imagery for you? And yes, this does all take place at the same time. Remember the shambler in the first half of the story suddenly stopping, and then in the second part it stepped on the building? That's the reason why it stopped in the first part...
Thank you for your comment, and I hope to have answered at least a couple of your questions with this post. Again though, the whole point of the piece is not to ask questions but to answer them yourself, to imagine what the world looks like using the information provided.
First, what's a shambler? Can you describe it a bit more. All I get is that it's a machine, that has a propeller and three legs. What type of machine is it? Does it look like a car, a train or a cable car? Can you describe the person who's talking, please and can you give us some more background information? I feel a little lost. Also, I don't understand the second half at all. It does't seem to relate to the first half, although I'm assuming that the " walking thing" is the shambler. What do the characters in the second half look like? Does it take place at the same time as the first part? Your piece is leaving me with more questions than answers. I liked the tone of the piece and it seemed to flow well. I think that if you answer these questions, you'll have a stronger piece. I like it though.
Palindrome