On an autumn day more glorious than the inside of a cathedral, Harold Waterman wandered through Laverstone woods. His fingers, trailing across the rough bark of beeches, told of the easy summer that had tailed off with the arrival of the equinox. He breathed in the heady scent of ripened crab apples and rowan berries on the rim of the forest as the squabbles of hungry starlings echoed through the trees.
He reached the edge, the gloom fading as the trees thinned. The path that separated the forest from the rough brush and stone bluffs of the Cheviots ran south to the Royal Park and north into the hills, where it petered out into little more than a rabbit trail. His whistle brought a wolf pushing past his legs, its weight threatening to topple him into a copse of sloes. Thorns plucked at his jacket.
The trilling of a songthrush soothed Harold's concerns about his upcoming exams and his need to find a job. Before Goddess Nature, all worries evaporate with the dew. He checked his scribbled notes: yes, this must be the place. Sunbeams punctured the woodland canopy creating great colonnades of light to guide his way.
He heard voices ahead, laughter; the others must already be there, celebrating the season's change as the Gods intended. Harold quickly sloughed off his clothes. A woodmouse skittered warmly across his foot as he stepped into the clearing--his joy, perhaps, a little too pronounced--and into silence.
"Ah, um, is this the Druids' Festival?" he asked.
One of the women coughed. "No, it's the Senior Women Ramblers' Picnic," she said. She looked him up and down. "But do come join us for dessert . . . "
Opening: Rachel Green.....Continuation: Anonymous
17 comments:
*laughs*
I love the continuation.
I believe that beech trees have smooth bark, and that sloes were the berries of the blackthorn, not the bush itself.
Describing beech bark as "rough" makes me distrust your other descriptions.
There's an abundance of adjectives that get in the way of any story. It's a great literary opening because it's boring as the day is long.
Hi Rachel,
I've read this through a couple of times - I think beginning with Harold's whisle call to the wolf would work well - and then work the description of the scene in as he and the wolf move along toward something.
I thought the writing was absolutely beautiful. I'm curious about the wolf. I would want to see something happen soon to draw me into a story, but based on the strength of the writing, I'd keep reading.
Er. I have no clue what beech trees look like, so I had no problem with that. Still - do look into Bernita's quibble.
While beech trees do have smooth rather than rough bark (that's one of the distinguishing characteristics of the beech tree), sloe can refer to either the berry or the bush.
Author, looks like you're going to get different opinions on this opening based on your style. Stick to your guns because style is style and there is no right or wrong there. Just differences in taste.
My taste runs along the lines of anon 1:09 rather than that of jjd. In fact, because of what I perceive as the overuse of adjectives, I compared protags' names from your intro and the query right below it to see if this was the opening for that query.
I thought the word "gloom" was a bit jarring in conjunction with "glorious" used earlier. I know you mean it's shadowed in the forest, but gloom carries too much of an emotional context.
I do like your sentence structures and the active voice. Just a few too many adjectives. My own writing style is pretty florid, too, and I have to work to pare it down just a bit to where I keep voice but don't turn off readers. Just something to think about ...
How is an autumn day glorious like the interior of a cathedral? Maybe there are lots of similarities but they're not on the page. An extended metaphor comparing the shadowy forest to the dimness and solemnity of a cathedral might make great reading, but that's not on the page either. So it comes across, to me at least, as an empty phrase that I'm meant to fill with my own meanings.
If this is to sell on the basis of writing rather than plot, then the images need to resonate with the reader. Take us into the forest and/or the cathedral, and show us how the character sees it/them, evoke their unique perspective on their environment.
I've had a flock of hungry starlings eating my cooking apples straight off the trees and "squabbles of hungry starlings" doesn't come close to reproducing the experience. MTH.
I also thought the writing was beautiful, but it was also pointless in that first paragraph, because it made the wolf's arrival seem like it was an interruption when it probably is something significant. Just me. Also, ditto what buffysquirrel says. The metaphore has to be spelled out. compare displaying a handful of uncut, rough stones vs. gleaming cut gems. There is a large difference, although the rough stones are very much larger.
Also, beech bark is indeed smooth. Linkie: http://www.colby-sawyer.edu/images/image_874.jpg
I get a nice sense of place from this. I was not fond of the 'inside of a cathedral' analogy, but I assume it is telling us something about Harold's character/interests.
Really? I thought the comparison between autumn woods and the inside of a cathedral was absolutely obvious: the many bright colors of the leaves, and the bright colors of stained glass windows. Spelling it out would bore me.
Yeah, I liked the analogy between the cathedral and the trees also. I pictured that; it was a nice image in my head.
I suppose the difference is I've actually been in cathedrals.
I suppose the difference is I've actually been in cathedrals.
Yeah, maybe; but they're actually quite different in the daytime.
That was almost funny.
That was almost funny.
Thanks for saying so. I usually strive to be barely adequate. Almost is a bit of a stretch.
Nevertheless, the cathedral comparison is rather cliche.
Nevertheless, the cathedral comparison is rather cliche.
I don't agree with that. It may not be brilliantly executed here, but I'm not ready to write off a "cathedral metaphor" as cliche.
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