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Untitled beginning to a novel:
A recent novel I am working on. Thoughts and opinions? And most importantly, does this opening scene make you want to read on (should there be more to read).
September’s usually always start well, a cool, yet modest breeze, a hazy sunshine that battles with the clouds for dominance over the sky and the refreshing brush of auburn and puce leaves against the fertile ground. Yet, this one started differently. The harsh, pounding of raindrops took full control of the sky as thunderous outbursts make their mark over the countryside, the result of the hot August weather coming into abrupt conflict with the chilled September winds. The only admiration for such depressing weather was the trees, as they danced and reached upwards, into the sky, hoping to catch the water droplets they had been deprived of, for months before. The grass ruffled helplessly back and forth, as the evil cooing of the gusts fought dangerously with the inhabitants of the park. Even the birds, small and tuff, found refuge from the unusual weather. You wouldn’t be far wrong to say the park as a whole was entirely deserted, all except one man… He sat in the middle of the park, upon a brown, almost rusty bench, the rain gushing down on him furiously, trying to move him from the park. But he was motionless as he sat, the rain drizzling down him and splashing onto the wet concrete below. From a long distance, his precise looks were hard to define; he was nothing more than a black figure sat within the depression of autumn. However, as you got closer, you became more apparent of his features. His face was hidden slightly from the world around him, his black over garment was baggy and tough, rising just above his chin and casting a deep, dark shadow on his face. He looked to be middle-aged man, his stance and choice of clothing suggesting this. Dressed in smart brown shoes, shined to perfection, and black trousers accompanied with his black coat, he held a smart appearance, something that defiantly did not suit his place of desire, the park. He had a slightly bulky frame, possibly a combination of fat and muscle, suggesting an active and nutritious life. His hair wasn’t entirely visible due to the hat he was wearing, silk woven, expensive looking, but the strands that fell from his forehead were brown and sleek. As the rain began to stop its offensive, the man edged his head up slightly, the shadow disappearing from his face, scared of the open air. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as his eyes stared out into the wilderness. Brown, yet dull, they showed misery, despair and sorrow. The emotions certainly didn’t fit the face that was for sure. He was elegantly handsome, even for a middle-aged man, his nose and cheekbones being close to perfection, with no impurities or flaws visible. His lips were small and quaint, showing a man’s loss of words. You could be quite accurate in saying he had that look of suicide, where a man has nothing left to appreciate and begins to question the motives of life. Fortunately for him, the rain had eventually come to a halt and the sun found it way through the overcrowding clouds, beginning to start it’s clean up of the vibrant and unexpected September downpour. Slowly, the man lifted himself and stared up into the sky, at the heavens looking down on him. ‘Be safe hunny,’ he whispered, as his arm reached up into the sky, hand outstretched. He yearned for the opportunity to grab her, yet he know he couldn’t…
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I have no idea how novels are written because I hate to read. Guess I better polish off a book and begin reading. |
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![]() And read read read! I think everybody that starts to write begin by copying their favourite authors. Think it takes a while to grow into your own style of writing ![]() but finish the novel, so ppl (smarter then me) can read it and show what you are doing well and not so well. |
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As mey said its overdescriptive. your opening sentance has a descriptive word for everyhting... i.e. a cool, yet modest breeze, a hazy sunshine that battles with the clouds for dominance over the sky and the refreshing brush of auburn and puce leaves against the fertile ground.
The sentance is too long tbh and way too descriptive... go over your work again and cut out some of this and it should be ok. Edit: 'almost rusty bench' How can somthing be almost rusty? its either rusty or not? right? take out the almost and it makes the sentance better... remember simplicity and a great story line is the key get some good plots going between different factions/characters if u want some more complexity, but dont overcomplicate the wording in the sentances!
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Last edited by Adlatus Hellbringer; 25th July 2006 at 11:55 PM. |
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You want HONEST honest opinions and critique, or minor version of such a thing?
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As for the discription, I will be editing that quite a bit tomorrow. Am too tired for the moment. |
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![]() Should there be more to read you ask. Yes ofc, it's a novel no? ![]() It's not bad I think, but very hard to judge such a small portion of something planned to be a novel. One of the best books I've ever read didn't pick up till about page 200 (Anne Rices Witching Hour) You set the scene pretty well, I'm there in the empty autumn park with this man and his misery. One thing. Whos is the narrator? If your narrator is 3rd person it should remain neutral (unless speaking on behalf of the man or others) and not describe the month as starting well or the weather as depressing as it does in the first paragraph. Some other things: The rain trying to remove him from the park sounds like it has a will of it's own. ("as if trying" or similar could work better) Staring into the wilderness sounds to me like he's not in a park but in the African Savanna or something But then English is not my native language.That look of suicide - your description of his sadness works pretty well, but implying the reader knows the look of suicide is a tad too dramatic. Good luck mate, do post some more. Z.
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To put it bluntly, and I'm not "flaming" you here; I got bored after the first sentance.
You're trying so hard to put in descriptive words that you're completely losing the reader - it's almost as if the words in between the adjectives are only there to fill in the gaps. Additionally, you really need to improve your grammar and punctuation. You also change tenses constantly; this reads very poorly.
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eggy rr10 cleric thinky rr9 sorc okey rr7 merc |
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Revamped a bit of it and I think i sorted most of the tense mixups. Thanks for pointing that out Eggy.
I won't be asking feedback for every section, this is just to help me dictate my writing for the rest of the novel. Any further improvements visible? September’s usually always start well, a modest breeze, a hazy sunshine that battles with the clouds for dominance over the sky and the refreshing brush of auburn and puce leave against the ground. Yet, this one started differently. The harsh, pounding of raindrops took full control of the sky as thunderous outbursts made their mark over the countryside, the result of the hot August weather coming into abrupt conflict with the chilled September winds. The only admiration for such depressing weather was the trees, as they danced and reached upwards, into the sky, hoping to catch the water droplets they had been deprived of, for months before. The grass ruffled helplessly back and forth, as the evil cooing of the gusts fought dangerously with the park’s inhabitants. Even the birds found refuge from this unusual weather. You wouldn’t be far wrong to say the park as a whole was entirely deserted. All except one man… He sat in the middle of the park, upon a brown bench, the rain gushing down on him furiously; as if trying to move him from his position. But he was not moving, allowing the rain to drizzle down him and splash onto the wet concrete below. From a long distance, his precise looks were hard to define; he was nothing more than a black figure sat within the depression of autumn. However, upon getting closer, you became more apparent of his features. His face was hidden slightly from the world around him. The black over garment he wore was baggy and tough, rising just above his chin and casting a deep, dark shadow on his face. He looked to be middle-aged, his stance and choice of clothing suggesting this. Dressed in smart brown shoes, shined to perfection, and black trousers accompanied with a black coat, he held a smart appearance, something that defiantly did not suit his location.. He had a slightly bulky frame, a combination of fat and muscle, suggesting an active and nutritious life. His hair wasn’t entirely visible due to the hat he was wearing, silk woven and expensive looking, but the strands that fell from his forehead were brown and sleek. As the rain began to stop, the man edged his head up slightly, the shadow disappearing from his face as light rushed in. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as his eyes stared out into the tree-clustered forest in front of him. Brown and dull, they showed misery, despair and sorrow. He was elegantly handsome, even for a middle-aged man, his nose and cheekbones being close to perfection, with no impurities or flaws visible. His lips were small and quaint, quivering slightly. Fortunately for him, the rain had eventually come to a halt and the sun found it way through the overcrowding clouds, beginning to start it’s clean up of the unexpected September downpour. Slowly, the man lifted himself and stared up into the sky, at the heavens looking down on him. ‘Be safe hunny,’ he whispered, as his arm reached up into the sky, hand outstretched. He yearned for the opportunity to grab her, yet he know he couldn’t… |
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seem to recall some "rule" that u gotta grab the reader in the first sentance, and tbh, talking about the weather doesn't cut it
![]() try find a really good opening line.
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Lord Konah "It used to be fun... now it's just work."
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I agree with Konah here. Actually.. thinking about it, the LAST two entence would make a pretty good starter. If you put it on top of the text, then - from there - make your way through the descriptions of the setting and then the man. Just a suggestion.
I might write a more detailed review later if I find the time.
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