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 Posted: Sun Jul 29, 2007 5:23 pm
You just keep getting better and better, don't you?
-LD
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Posted: Sun Jul 29, 2007 5:28 pm
I do?
You make me blush, my friend. The next chapter is short, too, but they go back to long again after that.
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Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2007 9:30 am
The Serpent Starblaze made his way top the clearing where he smelt the humans. The little demon wasn’t there, but she was close. His hissing breath drew in and out in huge, wind-like gusts, warm and strong. Normally he would have killed them by now, but he was curious about what the little one and her friend would do to them, now that the odds were even. Monique might not approve of his god-like demeanor towards the situation, but his curiosity was getting to be very strong. Too strong to just kill and not find out what will happen. He was drawn in by some magic that was too old and too powerful to fight, so he went along. Kyonsei, the Serpent hissed. It could not speak, but it could communicate in other ways. Come. She looked up and saw the eyes, glowing purple in the light distance. Ayrei stood up, the lizard-girl in his arms. “Starblaze!” he called. “Leave her alone, she’ll get to it on her own!” Ssshe and I mussst ssspeak, jackal. Starblaze responded almost idly, ignoring that Kyonsei clung to her friend in fear. I mean no harm, little one.She looked at the Snake doubtfully, Ayrei holding her close. “No, put me down.” she said, deciding to trust herself to destiny instead of play it safe. This creature was not a god, nor was Monique, and she should not fear them as such. He gave her a look but did as she had asked of him. She smiled and tried to reassure him she’d be ok, but in the end she knew he felt no better for it. All she could do was go. She slowly made her way over to the giant snake, scared for her life but doing what had to be done.
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Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2007 12:14 pm
Ooooh. I love scenes like this, with the tension building steadily....
-LD
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Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2007 12:48 pm
The next scene is pretty interesting, too. But you'll have to wait for that. Hee.
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 11:59 am
Awake (Dei) He opened his eyes; the lizard-girl still partially visible from what he was now sure wasn't just a dream, but an Astral Projection of sorts. This was probably a side effect of trying to gain control of his prophetic dreaming - or maybe they were drugging his food with some experimental drug, or something. Who could be sure? His room came into full focus and he began to search for his dream journal and pen. He opened it to a blank page before putting on his glasses to write. His long, colorless hair shrouded his shoulders and chest as he began to scribble down all he could remember of the dream he'd just had, and the one two days prior, about Anianka, and Kyonsei, the fear, the longing... And about the underlying sense of destiny; how he felt he'd have met with her one way, or the other. Once that was done he hid it away again and got dressed. The sun would be up soon and he was going to be first in line for breakfast - and get it fresh for once. His roommate still slept, her breathing faint. They had to share a room because there were no other options. Otherwise, they'd never have been paired together. Being of the now non-violent variety their door was unlocked. Dei took advantage of this to go for smokes at night - so did she, and often they'd go together, watching out for each other like siblings. He would do so now, in the west courtyard. But he made a brief bathroom stop, first, his bladder screaming at him with a rage. Things outside were bright, now, in a dull "the sun is coming up" manner. The hall to the courtyard also led to the main building, and was long, dimly lit, and marked with fake potted plants on tables at regular intervals. He was on the second floor, but that was all right. The staircase led directly to the boxed-in courtyard, so he didn't really worry. If anything he would be glad for the fresh air and the cigarette - he was going a little stir-crazy (haha) in the overly warm room. The bottoms of his baggy pant legs got under his feet as he walked down the hall and stairs. The doctors and nurses were amazed he didn't trip himself or fall by slipping on the fabric, but his trick was walking softly. It was amazingly preventative. He had the smoke lit before he was even out the door, unable to wait, feeling uneasy. He rushed out the door and nearly tripped on a bench. Over by a large Willow stood Seamus, an older patient who was harmless, and spoke quite often of "crazy Negroes" and "gold plated corn on the cob." Harmless, yes, but also an ex-heroin addict, and at one point a hobo on the streets. He was picked up talking to himself, and brought here. But because he was amusing, and he didn't hurt anyone, Dei didn't mind him being around. He was one of the few Dei could put up with. Currently Seamus was watching the leaves rustle, and hadn't noticed Dei yet. So he went and sat in his usual spot under the tree, the grass wet, and his dirt-divot ashtray lined with morning dew. He sat down, not caring about the wet. He wouldn't be able to find Anianka, but perhaps she could find him. The only problem with that was the fact that neither of them knew where they came from until they woke back up. This meant he would need some way to remind himself, some way to change things, to... To... To alter the reality of the dream and bend it to his will. Of course, if he would take, say, a note in his hand, then he would remember, and she might be able to bring it with her on the other side! Or maybe she could bring him out with her... No, try a piece of paper first and see how it goes. Work your way, Dei. But he was already grinning at the possibilities - silently laughing. "She's the Devils Daughter come to take her throne." Seamus said, idly. The suddenness of his voice made Dei jump. "And the other is Goddess in disguise." "Who's that, Seamus?" Dei asked. "Oh, she don't remember, but she's been around the worlds of the Yggdrasil before." he rambled on. "Not the first world, the hidden world, but the other nine for sure. When the two meet, sparks fly, who ever loses, loses their very soul. No referee, anything goes. Don't lose, Goddess." Dei stared at him, unable to tell if it were rambles or prophesy. Seamus fell to sitting and smiled, just then. "Who's the Goddess, Seamus?" he asked. "Who's the Devils Daughter?" "Elohim can save her." Seamus said, and he closed his eyes. "Elohim can help her." "Who?" "Them crazy Negroes took my bucket of fries again, didn't they?" Seamus asked, opening his eyes. "I'll get 'em eventually."
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 6:13 pm
Great work! biggrin I'd been meaning to read this for awhile, but the length had been scaring me away. Your story is great so far, and I'm enjoying viewing the world of Maroque. Two things bother me about the story though:
The first would be in description.
Maroque doesn't seem terribly frightening. It has strange inhabitants, but Anianka and Dei have yet to confront anything which means them direct harm. They aren't teetering on the edge of disaster. In the prologue, Maroque appears to be a hideous world of pain and suffering, but there's little to suggest that from the things the characters see and meet there. I guess what I would say is, it seems that you've set out to capture a realm of terror that is comparable to a real nightmare, but you haven't yet succeeded in that respect.
The second point would be in the relationship of the characters to their world.
I mentioned that Dei and Anianka do not really seem to be in any danger--but more than that, they seem largely in control, self-assured, and directed. Elements of traditional horror stories, such as fear, confusion, paranoia, and the constant threat of forces able to completely overwhelm the characters seem strangely absent. Of course, the servants of Monique are there, but they don't seem even remotely hostile to the travelers.
In short, Maroque is a decent dark fantasy, but it fails as a horror story.
-----
To create a compelling horror, the reader needs to empathize with the main characters, and then put himself into their shoes. Once we see and feel how the characters are feeling, then we will shudder when they balance on the edge of death. You've done a good job of getting us inside the characters' heads, and understanding their thoughts. Now we just need some sympathy and danger to tie up the mix.
-----
On another note, I can't understand why a character like Dei would be in an Asylum. I imagine you expect to show us his violent side soon, but until we see it, we won't really understand the character too well. You have done a good job of justifying Anianka though, and the reader does feel as though he knows her. Even if he doesn't quite sympathize with her feelings, he feels able to understand them.
-----
Anyway, I suppose I've said enough. Your writing is good, but you seem unconscious of the mood you create with your words. This mood is what separates a writer from a storyteller--the kind who pulls you in and weaves you into the plot as though you were really there. Strive for this creation of mood in your future chapters, and I'll look forward to reading them. Hope the review helps.
Happy writing,
-KK
and nice avatar, btw biggrin
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 9:20 pm
I don't know about that. I think this is interesting because the characters are so atypical of a normal horror. I'm forced to agree though, that Maroque doesn't seem very scary, at least not in the traditional sense. It's peculiar denizens and odd scenes set there make it very...eerie. Like a green sky. Just...waiting for something to happen is freaky with these characters and this setting.
Part of what she does very well is creating suspense, and dispelling it, and then bringing it back again stronger. It reminds me of a throbbing heart beating more loudly each time, or war drums in the distance drawing closer. Don't you see, KiyoKyo? This is not at all a story like you've ever read before. It's what will keep drawing you back again and again, listening and waiting for changes in weave and weft, always waiting for that inevitable storm to begin, and wondering all the while if rain shall fall, or fire, or blood.
Love and Vale,
-LD
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 10:36 pm
This is, of course, only the beginning. Anianka and Dei (who's got a lot more him than you have seen, and will have even more than I myself could accurately predict) will meet with more horrible creatures (like the wolf-bird who tried to kill Anianka on her first little visit). Its just that so far, what they've passed by (which is very little, due to location) believes that Kyonsei or Ayrei (or, in fact, both) will kill them in their own time.
And Starblaze is gaining a God-complex. Which doesn't seem to bode well for him, now does it?
My characters have yet to come across anything because aside from Starblaze, the marshes are actually barren and devoid of most forms of life. One they thin out, more and more creatures are brave enough to risk living there, and less and less of them will just assume Kyonsei's intentions. You have a remember, a lot of the demons (in fact, all of them) were humans who died in the twisted reality of Monique's Dreamscape.
And Snowbright (the big white Rose) is, large and by part, not really that big a player in the beginning of the story, because she cannot move. She's anchored to the ground by her roots. But even she has her purpose to serve.
Dei's character is extremely bi-polar, and bordering D.I.D. (multiple personalities). I say bordering because he doesn't exactly lose time, rather memories grow fuzzy and faded, and he becomes unsure of what he's done. A lot of what Dei did do was self-inflicted damage, though. He was set in there to protect him from himself, mostly. There are other reasons, which you will find out. But the biggest thing was self-harm.
This isn't exactly a traditional horror story, however. Its a horror-fantasy, and its a lot more than that. Its going to get a lot scarier than it is so far, I can tell you that. But a good horror doesn't just rush into the fright. It builds up... Like a really good Stephen King book... Cujo, for instance. That book was half build-up, even though you saw it coming, it just didn't happen, didn't happen, didn't happen, and then finally something terrible happened, and the book was already almost done.
I'm going to make this story into something amazing, something... Huge. I want people to talk about this story over coffee and at the book of the month club and all over the internet. I want this book to be a wonderful success, because this book will be the first one I get properly published.
I want you to love and hate Anianka, to root for her, but to only do so because Monique is worse. I want you to adore Monique, to really, truly connect with her. I want my bad guys to be lovable, and my good guys to be abstract and generally unliked. Because its different, and because thats reality. Because I was always unliked, and different, and unpopular... And picked on by people everyone else adored.
I'm very glad, though, to see you taking interest in my story, and reading, and giving me feedback. Thats what this thread is for, thats what I love to see. Thank you, Kiyoshi.
And Lea, thank you as well for such an interesting review as like I've never had before. You have a knack for making me blush with almost every post you make. Its doing wonders for my lack of self-esteem.
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 10:55 pm
I'll never understand that lack, my dear Tommy, for in all other ways, you have much more than most--strength, kindness, warmth, intellect, among others. And as for your characters, well, put me down for love-hate with Anianka and Dei, and kudos for the chick sitting on the white rose with teeth. 'Cause that takes guts, and lots of 'em.
...And I'll be one of those people chattering in bookstores over this, with coffee in one hand and your book in the other.
Love and Vale,
-LD
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 11:22 pm
I think I see a little better what you're working for now, having read your personal opinions on the story. I personally never found King's style too engaging, being a fan of Lovecraft when it comes to horror. Still, I feel like even after that, Suspense/Thriller is a better genre definition than horror regarding this story.
Leav, I realize what you're saying about timing, and that has its place too. However, from a neutral reader's point of view, there aren't enough hooks yet in the story to keep one anchored. Most readers are looking for a strong hook on page one, if they get that far. A tough reader--one who will drop a book after chapter one, or sooner if it doesn't give him a reason to keep reading, will probably not get too deep into the current draft of Maroque. Not that uninteresting books can't work--there are lots of bad books in print now--but few of them make it to the bestseller list. Even fewer make it into my library.
We need more shock, foreshadowing, and dark imagery. There is a little of these things now, but not near enough. Every word has to drip with them. Unless the reader is constantly wondering--and worried--about what comes next--desperate to turn the page and find out--a suspense/thriller novel simply falls apart.
I respect your dreams for this book, Tom, but there is alot of work to be done before this piece can attempt to compete with other popular market fictions. But then again, that's why we're all here to help you. As an author, you have the option to stonewall critics ("That's how its meant to be." or "We just haven't gotten there yet.") or to redo your work--again, and again, and again. Only one of these produces top-seller literature. Do you seriously consider rewriting previous chapters based on the reviews and comments you receive here? If you don't, then reviews of the work are wasted--just send it to the publisher as-is.
That might sound sort of forward, but if you're really going for something big, I feel like you're asking for hard criticism. I and Leavaros and the others here can help you write something really impressive, but it takes more than one or two or even ten drafts. I write a hard review here not to upset you, but as a hard push to keep working, and because I respect you as a fellow author.
Keep writing, and re-writing. Best of luck,
- KK
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 11:34 pm
Of course, you have to remain true to the story, or no amount of "hooks" will ever be enough to captivate readers. And even writing without hooks can be very successful. Take LotR for example. His writing is so descriptive that it is almost shunned by "most readers". And yet, he inspired a generation of writers, Jordan and LeGuin and Weis and Hickman and Salvatore and Brooks--only a few names among many.
Don't stonewall critics. I think that, yes, the story could use a bit more umph, a bit more quickly, but not at the price of the story's integrity. That must always, always come first.
Love and Vale,
-LD
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 12:27 am
I'm heeerrrrreee!!!
Hey Tommy! ^_^b
I finally caught up with your story (and Leavaros's). Pretty cool. I like the character being a bit crazy ^.^ I strangely connect more with crazy people... I like the crazy old guy in this newest post, with his prophetical words.
Have you ever seen Paranoia Agent the anime? There's an old guy who's in the hospital and seems senile but he writes things in chalk on the ground...He's freaky ^.^
I know what you mean by wanting people to go crazy over your story. I want the same thing... Being around this guild with all you writer people actually inspires me to write and just inspires me to do things razz
Low self-esteem? You don't act like you have low self-esteem O.o But neither do I, my daddy and many others who come off as having a high opinion of themselves or who just "carry" themselves well.
Anyways... What the crap do you and Leavaros do all the time? Do y'all write 24/7? xp And Sha! Y'all are always posting stuff.
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 10:13 am
Oh, I love you, Kiyo.
Yes, I plan on making revisions and rewrites based on criticisms and suggestions here. But the book, as a whole, hasn't even passed the 13th chapter yet. So as you can see, its very much a work in progress. I love any response to my work, be it good or bad. And I don't stonewall critics.
But when it comes to my work, I really think I should wait until I have at least half the book done before I start rewriting everything. I want to have more than just 12 chapters solid before I make revisions.
Glory! I don't watch Anime any more. I fell out of that about a year an a half ago, so I have no godly clue what you're talking about. Seamus was just a character that I have wanted to put into a story since I began writing. I just never had room in a plot for him until now.
I don't write twenty-four/seven. XD I wish I could! I have a job in the so-called real life, and I actually spend a lot of time doing nothing... When I should be writing or drawing or doing something productive. And I like to cook and bake, too.
Lea, I agree with you on the point of Tolkien's writing, descriptions and hooks, and the story's integrity. I'll fix things up when I know where the story is trying to take itself.
Personally, I adore Tolkien's writing. He and C. S. Lewis are two of the biggest reasons I started writing. Stephen King is the reason I keep it up. Well, him and the replies I get here.
As for my lack of self esteem, if you saw me and my mannerisms, you'd sniff it out right away. I retain a poor view on myself because of the huge amount of rejection placed on my by others at a young age. I'm getting better, and you guys are helping. I'm glad for this place.
You guys, if you want, can be as knit-picky as you like, because this is literally the rough draft with some minor spell check (mostly because I don't make very many spelling errors). So feel free to point out grammatical errors, comma splices, things like that.
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Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2007 7:12 pm
Awake (Anianka) Damnit! She slammed her fist down on her pillow, the sun shinning in her window. She had today off, so she wouldn’t have to wonder all day how the hell there was the Turtle Statue from her dream next to her in bed this morning. This was getting out of hand, she had to talk to Italo, or she’d lose her mind. She got up, grabbed a towel and hopped in the shower. The heat of the water released some of her stress, but she still couldn’t explain that statue, and it gnawed at her like a rat. How did it get there? What did it mean? In mythology the Turtle was generally a God-like figure upon who’s back rests the world – literally the weight of the world on its shoulders. But not always – Christians saw them as symbolizing evil forces, and the Greeks saw them as the citizens of hell; and it was one of the four Divine Animals of Chinese legend, accompanying the Phoenix, the Dragon, and the Chimera. She breathed deeply for a few moments, turning off the water and drying her pale white skin – she noticed on her legs some cuts, strawberry slices in her smooth skin. Oh well, they were small, they wouldn’t scar. Besides, she had to further her knowledge on Turtle Myths today, what she knew was little compared to what there was to know; a basic knowledge. She made her way into her room, grabbing some pants and a blouse – she dressed this way on her days off or when she was hung over, unelaborated outfits were for when she was lazy. Wrapping the towel around her shoulders she sat at her desk and turned on her laptop computer. When it was booted up she logged in and opened all the programs that she figured she would need, including her music player. Maybe some Death Metal would put her in a better mood – it usually did. Sometimes, usually randomly, she wondered if she was and angry person, but really she was just apathetic. When she had her music blaring nice and loud she opened her messenger to look for Italo. She didn’t see him online, so she opened her browser and began to look up “Mythology; Turtle” in her search engine. She spent three hours scouring the results and taking notes. Then, as she was coming back from getting a sandwich Italo logged on. His messenger window and a web camera invitation suddenly covered the browser; Anianka happily accepted the offer and when it loaded, he waved to her. ”Hello.” She typed. “I’m glad to see you.” ”Is good to see you, too.” Came his reply. “How are you?” ”Freaking out a bit.” ”Why’s that?” He asked. ”This.” She replied, picking up the statue. Then, one handed, she proceeded to explain what had been going on. ”How unique.” Italo replied. “Story from a Live Action Role Play?” ”Er, no.” She wrote. “Something really going on.” ”No joke? No lie?” he asked. “You’re really serious?” ”Yes, I am.” She replied. “Have I ever lied to you before? What reason would I have?” ”Good point.” “I’m really freaked out about this, hon.” She put down the statue, and shook her head. “I’m actually scared.” “Its alright to be scared,” Italo told her. “We all do, unless we’re robots. Listen, I have no idea what’s going on while you sleep, but that statue is unique. Get it checked out by a pawnbroker or a jeweler, but don’t sell it. See what it is, got it?” ”Yes, I understand…” “What have you found on Turtles?” he asked. She thought about it for several minutes, and then began to type up everything she had, copying and pasting whole sections from certain sites. It took up the word limit per message multiple times, taking up over 16 messages. Italo took his time to read it all carefully, looking for any clues and trying to form a theory or two on this strange phenomenon. After a short while he replied, and the two of them threw ideas back and forth for a while. All the time she’d been slowly gouging a hole in her desk between messages. This one was significantly smaller than the others, but was a sign of stress and worry – a habit she’d picked up in grade school many a year ago. The most common result, they concluded, was that of the Turtle with the world on its back. It sounded somehow right to Anianka, though as with her desire to reach the lake, she couldn’t exactly say why. It nagged at her, of course, but there were more pressing matters this day. Far, far more pressing matters to attend to. Such as what she should do when next she slept, and if she could bring things in with her, as well as out. This idea scared her a bit, but if she could, she could bring a weapon next time; a dagger, or sword from her collection. ”Anianka, don’t do anything impractical.” ”I won’t, I promise.” After a few more hours Anianka ended her conversation with Italo and grabbed the statue. What are you? She wondered, the cold metal numbing her hands easily. Why are you?After a moment she put the statue in her backpack and got ready to go out.
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