Why you don't get published.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
New Beginning 101
Shimmering flecks of quartz in the castle rock set dots of sunlight dancing on the bed. Scotia yawned, drifting in that sublime state of half-consciousness, when the bed felt its softest.
She had waited, patiently, for the sun to climb high enough to breech Brazier Castle’s walls and shine through the windows of Aberhaven Manor. And at that divine moment she took in the masculinity of her newly wedded husband’s face.
A slumberous smile played about his lips. Graham Marcus Brazier, 7th Earl of Aberhaven. A Scottish lord.
Her hand tingled with longing to stroke the golden growth on his face, his raven hair, anything that might stir that distant memory. But she dared not. He might awaken, and the planes of his face would change and his plan to destroy her dream would awaken with him.
The dawn rays sparkled ever closer to his magnificent form. Soon the 7th Earl, her vampiric master, would be consumed in a blaze of glory.
And henceforth, Brazier Castle would be known as Scotia's Medieval World.
Opening: Cathy Leming.....Continuation: Stargazer
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28 comments:
Poor Graham!
(oh my). . .
It's a nice start, but (wait for it, wait for it) you have too many words.
I write too many words too. I just cut a short story from 18000 words to 11000 words.
You only have 150 words to catch our attention, what's the impusle to read on? What's going to happen at sunrise? TIghten up all that nice description and give us conflict, stuggle, passionate love, or something.
I like the tone and the style. It's easy to read and comfrotable. It fits the scene. Langorous comes to mind.
Picky point #1 - a blond man, has golden growth. A raven haired man, never has golden growth. His beard is black like his hair.
Picky point #2 - Ravens are really crows and carrion eaters. Anytime I read "raven colored hair", I get hives, itcheds, boils and icks. ;)
Huh?
The sun isn't high enough to shine though the windows, yet she is awakened by dots of sunlight?
Thought "divine" was just a little purple.
Did she expect him to look like a girl?
Black hair and red beards are not so uncommon to Scottish men. My father and two uncles had this trait.
Don't know about a blond beard, Dave, but black haired men can have red beards.
BREACH, dagnabbit, not breech.
Honestly, I'm a sqrl, not a Knut.
(er, what distant memory?)
OK, I only know a couple Scots and never slept with any of them.
I stand corrected.
You should, especially if they're female and have black hair. They're known as a Ginger-Minger.
Wow, this is really, ummmm, flowery. Way over the top flowery. I read a lot of historicals and this is just too much. I'd like to see more concrete words, descriptions. Maybe Scotia is a flowery type of girl but I would definitely need to see that in contrast to someone else so I won't reject the whole thing.
Also, do you really want to start a book with people sleeping and watching other people sleep?
This tries too hard to be poetic and instead is a bit irritating. The writing seems good. I agree with Dave, cut out some words (especially the adjectives) and get us to the good part.
Overall, I liked the "flowery" language, especially as it appears to have a purpose, namely contrasting a too idyllic image of sunrise with one you love, and the menace to come of this person who wants to destroy her dreams.
And just to make sure I am clear, anonymous 4:05 PM, a woman with black hair and a red beard is known as a ginger minger?
Starting a book when the main character wakes up is a bit of a cliche.
Your hook (and it's a good one) lies in the last paragraph, so why not bring that to the forefront? Skip the flowery stuff and try starting with:
Scotia's hand tingled with longing to stroke the golden growth on Graham's face, his raven hair, but she dared not. He might awaken, and his plan to destroy her dream would awaken with him.
Isn't that juicy? You can then fill in the details of the room in later, although I'd recommend interspersing them with some action.
By the way, my mind tripped over the gold stubble, raven hair thing also, listing it as an impossibility.
I didn't know that red beards and black hair could coexist. Since it's rare, you might consider either altering his beard colour, or making a point of mentioning that he has this rare colouration combination. It's probably a mistake to assume the reader has heard of such a thing before.
Just chiming in with my 3.4 cents (adjusted for inflation)
My dad had red, white, and black in his beard, with dark brown/black hair (where his head still had hair) Mom used to call him a calico kitty.
Except aren't calicos always girls?
Well, hullo, everyone!
I am the author of this piece.
Anonymous8:10, you are spot on!
Actually, this beginning is my newest beginning. The original beginning started with the hero and heroine in a row and the heroine acting cold and snarky. Some people didn't like my heroine. So I put her softer side up front.
I bow to your genius.
Pacatrue, you get me.
I can write *flowery.* I try to tone it down but actually like a more lyrical prose, myself. I'm not Dorothy Dunnett, however!!!
Red beards are not rare, anonymous8:10. I've seen many a dark haired man with red stubble in my neck of the woods. I do believe they are of Scottish, and maybe Irish ancestry... probably Norse, too.
Dave - some of us actually like to read. There is such a thing as enjoying a sentence. There's flavor, there's atmosphere, there's flow. Not every writer is trying to convey plot information as fast as possible.
Writing at a slower pace with more descriptive prose is a stylistic choice. The author should be criticized on the basis of the style they chose, not the style you think they should have chosen.
At any rate, your short story is not a good example. Presumably this is a novel, and no editor is going to care whether the author saves 10,000 words with their briskly efficient sentences.
I like this opening quite a bit. The style is "flowery" but the author pulls it off (although they're a little comma happy).
Even though starting the story with waking up in bed is cliche, the author has given it a nice, original twist; two twists, actually. 1) the protag is not in bed alone, 2) she doesn't want the other person to wake up.
That is certainly interesting enough to keep me reading!
Just some things that don't make complete sense to me. How is the sun reflecting the quartz on to the bed when the sun is outside? I've seen quartz gleam like diamonds in stone, but not make dots of sunlight dance on anything. Yes, dark hair, reddish beard - but I don't think that golden is the word. Given that it's tripping up so many readers, I think that you should reconsider it, even if it makes sense logically. For me, that combined with the quartz makes me lose my trust.
Scotia is an odd name for a Scottish girl.
Aw, EE cut out the 'oozing yellow wart'in my continuation.
The image of 'golden growth' coupled with raven just took me out of the flow.
Liked this beginning as I have a sneaking fondness for unashamedely OTT romances.
Unless your name is Edgar Allen Poe, Clive Barker, or HP Lovecraft the words "oozing yellow wart" shouldn't appear in your fiction writing.
:;)
Wot? Not even in a continuation? I thought anything goes? Anon 4:19
Gotta get me a cool blogger name.
While it's entirely possible to combine darkish hair with a reddish beard (though the other way round is more common), it's another thing entirely to combine "raven" hair with a "golden" beard. Raven is very dark! Golden is very bright!
The juxtaposition was so weird that I entertained the possibility that the "golden growth on his face" was some kind of weird precancerous mole.
And yeah, a bit on the purple side. Toning it down would probably make everyone happier.
Also: "breach".
[quote]Scotia's hand tingled with longing to stroke the golden growth on Graham's face, his raven hair, but she dared not. He might awaken, and his plan to destroy her dream would awaken with him.[/quote]
Way too fast for me. You just destroyed the romantic atmosphere. I prefer the original. Not everyone sets out to see an "action flick" in print. :)
Except aren't calicos always girls?No, but fertile calico males are so rare as to be nearly nonexistant.
So a Ginger-Minger is a, uh, lady whose, um, carpet doesn't quite--ahem, ahem--match her drapes? Just curious.
I can't make sense of the visual in the first sentence. The raven hair vs golden beard was utterly strange, unless maybe the raven hair was not on his head. [cough]
Someone in the comment trail defended the writing as lyrical and descriptive. It's descriptive, all right, but lyrical it's not. Phrases like:
--sunlight dancing on the bed (sunlight only dances off water, btw, not rock walls)
--at that divine moment
--masculinity of her newly-wedded husband's face
--hand tingled with longing (I don't know about anyone else, but my hands don't normally feel emotion.)
--slumberous smile played about his lips (I kept thinking how silly he must look with his mouth twitching all over creation)
are overblown and saccharine; one begins to expect references to long golden tresses and trembling white bosoms and throbbing, bulging...yeah.
However, that last line wiped the smirk off my face and made me sit up and pay attention. (It's kind of the same reaction I had when Gozilla stepped on Bambi.) Maybe it could be moved closer to the beginning and the rest of the writing toned down to something resembling reality.
The Smart Bitches talk about purple prose:
http://www.smartbitchestrashybooks.com/index.php/weblog/a_polemic_on_purple_prose/
(If that link doesn't work, go to www.smartbitchestrashybooks.com and hunt the archives for the April 20, 2005 (note the year) entry.)
I think by their definition (which I agree with) much of the writing in this beginning could be classified as purple prose. However, the last line shows real promise.
Is this better? I'm going to create a blog and post the first chapter there, if anyone wants to devote a little time to critiquing it. Thank you in advance.
Sunlight climbed onto the bed and Scotia yawned, drifting in that sublime state of half-consciousness when the bed felt its softest.
She turned to face Graham. A slumberous smile played about his lips. The stubble of his beard shone red in contrast to his black hair. A Scottish trait. Graham Marcus Brazier, 7th Earl of Aberhaven. A Scottish lord. Her newly wedded husband.
Her hand tingled with longing to stroke his face… his hair. But she dared not. He might awaken, and the planes of his face would change and his plan to destroy her dream would awaken with him.
Scotia slipped quietly from their bed. She donned her velvet robe, and without bothering to brush her tangled red hair, hurried through the manor house and out the front door.
Her bare feet gathered dew along the way as the shards of sunlight dispelled the shadows between Aberhaven Manor and Brazier Castle.
Hey, I liked the shimmering quartz and dancing sunlight. 'Climbed' is mundane.
During summer, light slips through the gap between our black-out curtains and brightens the vanity mirror with rainbows lines. Pretty.
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