BigBoss
Your Local Scrub
Damn you all. Check my book out already!
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Writers corner.
- Thread starter Atomic Postman
- Start date
Emperor
Simplesmente Rajuma
After writing some short stories a doubt came to my mind '' If I write something bigger where I would show it?'' Is there any site where I can publish ( and I may will) my stories? Or posting on forums dedicated to the matter is the only way?
Walpknut
This ghoul has seen it all
Anyone else here has a problem with avoiding saying "[character] said" too often in a scene? I am experimenting with just interjecting the dialogue with what the talker is doing with their body, but I don't know if this might get complicated when it's the receptor that reacts to what they say. How do you get around that?
I remember a teacher telling us "avoid [character] said", urging us to use substitutes, but when you plan to write more than 20 pages, there really aren't that many ways to say "said", you may work your way through "muttered" and "sighed" and "roared" and "coughed" but then that too becomes forced.
I remember, soon after, reading Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park - and it was full of "said", Alan said, said, said, Ellie said, said, said, he she it said, hell even "Roar!" the Tyrannosaurus said, after that I thought fuck it, "said" ain't so bad.
In my own writings, I am a firm believer of "said", and I will throw in a variation here and there, but I simply consider "[character] said" as a straight forward and honest description of the situation
I typically precede what the character said with a description of their expression.
Sorry for the crappy example, I'm a bit shook up right now.
Sorry for the crappy example, I'm a bit shook up right now.
Walpknut
This ghoul has seen it all
An example of what I do is this:
The characters are on a car:
-Well, I guess we'll just 'ave to crack some heads then- Caleb cracks his knuckles -He is big and strong, but that just means we need a different angle.
-You are not going- says Bess from behind the driver's seat -that guy stomped your goddamn back, you are in no shape to go do anything.
-That's what you say but I feel wonderful, it's kind of weird- Caleb rubs his stomach in a playful way -I am actually craving for some good ol' violence right now- he starts lightly kicking the back of the driver's seat -I know you wanna see that-.
The characters are on a car:
-Well, I guess we'll just 'ave to crack some heads then- Caleb cracks his knuckles -He is big and strong, but that just means we need a different angle.
-You are not going- says Bess from behind the driver's seat -that guy stomped your goddamn back, you are in no shape to go do anything.
-That's what you say but I feel wonderful, it's kind of weird- Caleb rubs his stomach in a playful way -I am actually craving for some good ol' violence right now- he starts lightly kicking the back of the driver's seat -I know you wanna see that-.
BigBoss
Your Local Scrub
I've seen plenty of novels that held the he said she said shit. It's fine, so long as you follow these two rules:
Rule #1 Don't use it to many times. You don't want to go through the "he said, and then she said, and then he said, and then he said" process. For example in a conversation, use it only where it fits, and then use simply work arounds, like "he stated" or "told me with a deep sigh", or "looked at me painfully, struggling to release the words form his mouth "whatever he said here". You know, stuff like that. Working on my novel and my old mentors taught me how to use this to my advantage. But like I said, using a couple times in a conversation is no biggie. Just don't use it EVERY TIME. Sometimes when I have a conversation going on, I won't even write who said it, usually leaving something before for the reader to figure out. Here's an example"
Example of Using 'He Said/She Said, Not to Much, But Just a Little Over the Top"
I walked up to her, eagerly awaiting this conversation, but also nervously.
I said "Hey, so..." I dragged it out for a second, trying to think of what to say. She turned to look at me, awaiting my answer. I said "So, would you mind uh..." I stopped myself again, eagerly scratching the back of my head in a shot of nervousness, however she looked at me eagerly, as if she excepted what I was going to ask, and wanted me to ask it. "Would you mind coming over sometime, we can do something that-?" I said, having worked up the courage before she cut me off. She then replied "Of course!" with excitement. "I can be over at your house tomorrow, if..." she looked down nervously, kicking the dirt slightly with her right shoe "if that's ok with you". I jumped up, immedisately saying "Yeah, yeha that's great!"
An Example of Avoiding It When Using Dialect
I walked up to my mentor. He was simply sitting there, his legs folded, arm's relaxed by his side, on a small stump leaning over a mountainous cliff. Sitting on this like he was now would require intense balance, a slight wrong move would lead to instant death. It was there he was meditating, in a deep sense of state of peace and tranquility. He taught me that within this state, you can see the world as it really is, it's true beauty. HE told me he could see what was happening thousands of miles from here, just through the presence of the tranquil-enlightenment he had relaxed his mind to gain, and use.
"Master, I-"
He instantly sensed the trouble within me.
"Calm down my son," he gestured with his hand to sit. "I sense a deep darkness in you, one that could be dangerous and disturb your Chi, and your inner balance... what troubles you my son?"
"Well..." I sat down upon a rock next to him, my seat being a within a little bit more comfortable between the long height he was testing his own fate on.
"Well master, it's my brother. I've been having dreams about him. The fact that I could not save him from Shi-Xia has me anxious, and I have been getting panic attacks. I feel as if his death was my fault" I began to get angry. "Also!" I looked at him, "You told me you would train me. You told me you would give me the knowledge and power to defeat him!"
He sensed my anger, though his Chi was strong, and my negative energy did not disrupt his harmony.
"Listen to what you have you told me, the answer is it. You must seek it out. Look deep inside you..."
"I... I don't understand" I stood there confused.
"Power is nothing without knowledge my son. In studying true Chi, in true Kung Fu, it is the strength of your mind and soul that will lead you to victory, not the strength of your body...." he continued. "I could teach you all the thousand dragon scrolls right now, I could teach you the five styles of the ancients, and even if you master all of these, you will still never defeat Shi-Xia"
"Again, master, I don't understand".
"You must master yourself, before your master your enemy" as he slightly moved his hands in a formation, bring a slight wind blow, disappearing into the distance, possibly back into the temple.
I climbed atop the stump of a rock he was on, which was just a small ledge with little rock support under it. I was trying to aim my balance, but as I took my first step I almost slipped. Master wasn't there, but I could sense his eyes upon me. Instead of focusing on my inner balance, I took a tantric stance, the stance of the Bull, and took in a deep breath. With my eyes' closed, I descended upon the rock, lightly sitting upon it. As I sat down, I felt as it I was weightless to the word, as if this weak rock was holding no more weight than that of a dew leaf. I meditated there, pondering on what I had just been told. There I sat, for a full day. Not even the heat of the sun or the cold breeze of the night rought me out of my meditation, but the peace of the world brought me into a deeper connection between myself and the universe, where I was able to seek guidance not from some deity, but from my own self, and the power the universe had granted upon me. There, at that instance, my eye's awoken. I knew exactly what I needed to do.
Rule #1 Don't use it to many times. You don't want to go through the "he said, and then she said, and then he said, and then he said" process. For example in a conversation, use it only where it fits, and then use simply work arounds, like "he stated" or "told me with a deep sigh", or "looked at me painfully, struggling to release the words form his mouth "whatever he said here". You know, stuff like that. Working on my novel and my old mentors taught me how to use this to my advantage. But like I said, using a couple times in a conversation is no biggie. Just don't use it EVERY TIME. Sometimes when I have a conversation going on, I won't even write who said it, usually leaving something before for the reader to figure out. Here's an example"
Example of Using 'He Said/She Said, Not to Much, But Just a Little Over the Top"
I walked up to her, eagerly awaiting this conversation, but also nervously.
I said "Hey, so..." I dragged it out for a second, trying to think of what to say. She turned to look at me, awaiting my answer. I said "So, would you mind uh..." I stopped myself again, eagerly scratching the back of my head in a shot of nervousness, however she looked at me eagerly, as if she excepted what I was going to ask, and wanted me to ask it. "Would you mind coming over sometime, we can do something that-?" I said, having worked up the courage before she cut me off. She then replied "Of course!" with excitement. "I can be over at your house tomorrow, if..." she looked down nervously, kicking the dirt slightly with her right shoe "if that's ok with you". I jumped up, immedisately saying "Yeah, yeha that's great!"
An Example of Avoiding It When Using Dialect
I walked up to my mentor. He was simply sitting there, his legs folded, arm's relaxed by his side, on a small stump leaning over a mountainous cliff. Sitting on this like he was now would require intense balance, a slight wrong move would lead to instant death. It was there he was meditating, in a deep sense of state of peace and tranquility. He taught me that within this state, you can see the world as it really is, it's true beauty. HE told me he could see what was happening thousands of miles from here, just through the presence of the tranquil-enlightenment he had relaxed his mind to gain, and use.
"Master, I-"
He instantly sensed the trouble within me.
"Calm down my son," he gestured with his hand to sit. "I sense a deep darkness in you, one that could be dangerous and disturb your Chi, and your inner balance... what troubles you my son?"
"Well..." I sat down upon a rock next to him, my seat being a within a little bit more comfortable between the long height he was testing his own fate on.
"Well master, it's my brother. I've been having dreams about him. The fact that I could not save him from Shi-Xia has me anxious, and I have been getting panic attacks. I feel as if his death was my fault" I began to get angry. "Also!" I looked at him, "You told me you would train me. You told me you would give me the knowledge and power to defeat him!"
He sensed my anger, though his Chi was strong, and my negative energy did not disrupt his harmony.
"Listen to what you have you told me, the answer is it. You must seek it out. Look deep inside you..."
"I... I don't understand" I stood there confused.
"Power is nothing without knowledge my son. In studying true Chi, in true Kung Fu, it is the strength of your mind and soul that will lead you to victory, not the strength of your body...." he continued. "I could teach you all the thousand dragon scrolls right now, I could teach you the five styles of the ancients, and even if you master all of these, you will still never defeat Shi-Xia"
"Again, master, I don't understand".
"You must master yourself, before your master your enemy" as he slightly moved his hands in a formation, bring a slight wind blow, disappearing into the distance, possibly back into the temple.
I climbed atop the stump of a rock he was on, which was just a small ledge with little rock support under it. I was trying to aim my balance, but as I took my first step I almost slipped. Master wasn't there, but I could sense his eyes upon me. Instead of focusing on my inner balance, I took a tantric stance, the stance of the Bull, and took in a deep breath. With my eyes' closed, I descended upon the rock, lightly sitting upon it. As I sat down, I felt as it I was weightless to the word, as if this weak rock was holding no more weight than that of a dew leaf. I meditated there, pondering on what I had just been told. There I sat, for a full day. Not even the heat of the sun or the cold breeze of the night rought me out of my meditation, but the peace of the world brought me into a deeper connection between myself and the universe, where I was able to seek guidance not from some deity, but from my own self, and the power the universe had granted upon me. There, at that instance, my eye's awoken. I knew exactly what I needed to do.
BigBoss
Your Local Scrub
I've seen plenty of novels that held the he said she said shit. It's fine, so long as you follow these two rules:
Rule #1 Don't use it to many times. You don't want to go through the "he said, and then she said, and then he said, and then he said" process. For example in a conversation, use it only where it fits, and then use simply work arounds, like "he stated" or "told me with a deep sigh", or "looked at me painfully, struggling to release the words form his mouth "whatever he said here". You know, stuff like that. Working on my novel and my old mentors taught me how to use this to my advantage. But like I said, using a couple times in a conversation is no biggie. Just don't use it EVERY TIME. Sometimes when I have a conversation going on, I won't even write who said it, usually leaving something before for the reader to figure out. Here's an example"
Example of Using 'He Said/She Said, Not to Much, But Just a Little Over the Top"
I walked up to her, eagerly awaiting this conversation, but also nervously.
I said "Hey, so..." I dragged it out for a second, trying to think of what to say. She turned to look at me, awaiting my answer. I said "So, would you mind uh..." I stopped myself again, eagerly scratching the back of my head in a shot of nervousness, however she looked at me eagerly, as if she excepted what I was going to ask, and wanted me to ask it. "Would you mind coming over sometime, we can do something that-?" I said, having worked up the courage before she cut me off. She then replied "Of course!" with excitement. "I can be over at your house tomorrow, if..." she looked down nervously, kicking the dirt slightly with her right shoe "if that's ok with you". I jumped up, immedisately saying "Yeah, yeha that's great!"
An Example of Avoiding It When Using Dialect
I walked up to my mentor. He was simply sitting there, his legs folded, arm's relaxed by his side, on a small stump leaning over a mountainous cliff. Sitting on this like he was now would require intense balance, a slight wrong move would lead to instant death. It was there he was meditating, in a deep sense of state of peace and tranquility. He taught me that within this state, you can see the world as it really is, it's true beauty. HE told me he could see what was happening thousands of miles from here, just through the presence of the tranquil-enlightenment he had relaxed his mind to gain, and use.
"Master, I-"
He instantly sensed the trouble within me.
"Calm down my son," he gestured with his hand to sit. "I sense a deep darkness in you, one that could be dangerous and disturb your Chi, and your inner balance... what troubles you my son?"
"Well..." I sat down upon a rock next to him, my seat being a within a little bit more comfortable between the long height he was testing his own fate on.
"Well master, it's my brother. I've been having dreams about him. The fact that I could not save him from Shi-Xia has me anxious, and I have been getting panic attacks. I feel as if his death was my fault" I began to get angry. "Also!" I looked at him, "You told me you would train me. You told me you would give me the knowledge and power to defeat him!"
He sensed my anger, though his Chi was strong, and my negative energy did not disrupt his harmony.
"Listen to what you have you told me, the answer is it. You must seek it out. Look deep inside you..."
"I... I don't understand" I stood there confused.
"Power is nothing without knowledge my son. In studying true Chi, in true Kung Fu, it is the strength of your mind and soul that will lead you to victory, not the strength of your body...." he continued. "I could teach you all the thousand dragon scrolls right now, I could teach you the five styles of the ancients, and even if you master all of these, you will still never defeat Shi-Xia"
"Again, master, I don't understand".
"You must master yourself, before your master your enemy" as he slightly moved his hands in a formation, bring a slight wind blow, disappearing into the distance, possibly back into the temple.
I climbed atop the stump of a rock he was on, which was just a small ledge with little rock support under it. I was trying to aim my balance, but as I took my first step I almost slipped. Master wasn't there, but I could sense his eyes upon me. Instead of focusing on my inner balance, I took a tantric stance, the stance of the Bull, and took in a deep breath. With my eyes' closed, I descended upon the rock, lightly sitting upon it. As I sat down, I felt as it I was weightless to the word, as if this weak rock was holding no more weight than that of a dew leaf. I meditated there, pondering on what I had just been told. There I sat, for a full day. Not even the heat of the sun or the cold breeze of the night rought me out of my meditation, but the peace of the world brought me into a deeper connection between myself and the universe, where I was able to seek guidance not from some deity, but from my own self, and the power the universe had granted upon me. There, at that instance, my eye's awoken. I knew exactly what I needed to do.
Rule #1 Don't use it to many times. You don't want to go through the "he said, and then she said, and then he said, and then he said" process. For example in a conversation, use it only where it fits, and then use simply work arounds, like "he stated" or "told me with a deep sigh", or "looked at me painfully, struggling to release the words form his mouth "whatever he said here". You know, stuff like that. Working on my novel and my old mentors taught me how to use this to my advantage. But like I said, using a couple times in a conversation is no biggie. Just don't use it EVERY TIME. Sometimes when I have a conversation going on, I won't even write who said it, usually leaving something before for the reader to figure out. Here's an example"
Example of Using 'He Said/She Said, Not to Much, But Just a Little Over the Top"
I walked up to her, eagerly awaiting this conversation, but also nervously.
I said "Hey, so..." I dragged it out for a second, trying to think of what to say. She turned to look at me, awaiting my answer. I said "So, would you mind uh..." I stopped myself again, eagerly scratching the back of my head in a shot of nervousness, however she looked at me eagerly, as if she excepted what I was going to ask, and wanted me to ask it. "Would you mind coming over sometime, we can do something that-?" I said, having worked up the courage before she cut me off. She then replied "Of course!" with excitement. "I can be over at your house tomorrow, if..." she looked down nervously, kicking the dirt slightly with her right shoe "if that's ok with you". I jumped up, immedisately saying "Yeah, yeha that's great!"
An Example of Avoiding It When Using Dialect
I walked up to my mentor. He was simply sitting there, his legs folded, arm's relaxed by his side, on a small stump leaning over a mountainous cliff. Sitting on this like he was now would require intense balance, a slight wrong move would lead to instant death. It was there he was meditating, in a deep sense of state of peace and tranquility. He taught me that within this state, you can see the world as it really is, it's true beauty. HE told me he could see what was happening thousands of miles from here, just through the presence of the tranquil-enlightenment he had relaxed his mind to gain, and use.
"Master, I-"
He instantly sensed the trouble within me.
"Calm down my son," he gestured with his hand to sit. "I sense a deep darkness in you, one that could be dangerous and disturb your Chi, and your inner balance... what troubles you my son?"
"Well..." I sat down upon a rock next to him, my seat being a within a little bit more comfortable between the long height he was testing his own fate on.
"Well master, it's my brother. I've been having dreams about him. The fact that I could not save him from Shi-Xia has me anxious, and I have been getting panic attacks. I feel as if his death was my fault" I began to get angry. "Also!" I looked at him, "You told me you would train me. You told me you would give me the knowledge and power to defeat him!"
He sensed my anger, though his Chi was strong, and my negative energy did not disrupt his harmony.
"Listen to what you have you told me, the answer is it. You must seek it out. Look deep inside you..."
"I... I don't understand" I stood there confused.
"Power is nothing without knowledge my son. In studying true Chi, in true Kung Fu, it is the strength of your mind and soul that will lead you to victory, not the strength of your body...." he continued. "I could teach you all the thousand dragon scrolls right now, I could teach you the five styles of the ancients, and even if you master all of these, you will still never defeat Shi-Xia"
"Again, master, I don't understand".
"You must master yourself, before your master your enemy" as he slightly moved his hands in a formation, bring a slight wind blow, disappearing into the distance, possibly back into the temple.
I climbed atop the stump of a rock he was on, which was just a small ledge with little rock support under it. I was trying to aim my balance, but as I took my first step I almost slipped. Master wasn't there, but I could sense his eyes upon me. Instead of focusing on my inner balance, I took a tantric stance, the stance of the Bull, and took in a deep breath. With my eyes' closed, I descended upon the rock, lightly sitting upon it. As I sat down, I felt as it I was weightless to the word, as if this weak rock was holding no more weight than that of a dew leaf. I meditated there, pondering on what I had just been told. There I sat, for a full day. Not even the heat of the sun or the cold breeze of the night rought me out of my meditation, but the peace of the world brought me into a deeper connection between myself and the universe, where I was able to seek guidance not from some deity, but from my own self, and the power the universe had granted upon me. There, at that instance, my eye's awoken. I knew exactly what I needed to do.
SnapSlav
NMA's local DotA fanatic
Not really. I use the opportunity as an exercise to find different ways of saying the same thing. But then, I apply the same rule to single sentences, e.g. if I used the word "also" at the onset of a statement, even if I could use it again I better find a synonym instead. Always go for variety rather than stale repetition. Said, spoke up, remarked, added, exclaimed. There's many different ways to express speaking, and you don't need to open a line by illustrating who began saying it. It's also possible to avoid any introduction entirely if you characterize someone's mannerisms well enough that readers know who's saying what, and when a back-and-forth is taking place it's fairly obvious who's speaking in what turn. If it isn't, repeating "[character] said," before each line is the least of your worries.
Not being mean or poking specific fun at you, it just always gives me a chuckle when a writer, in a writing-as-the-subject discussion, makes a spelling boo boo. XD
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Walpknut
This ghoul has seen it all
I don't know if that could easily be applied to writting in spanish. The english language cheats a lot. You can turn any word into a verb or an adjective while also having a lot of homonyms that looks completely different one from the other. Spanish is a much more cruel mistress, if I start using homonyms for "said" I would easily run into sounding like I am using a word calendar or trying too hard to be fancy, while at the same time if I start using slang it will look ridiculous. And trying to write an entire book in another language would be a little too ambitious of me, being an amateur and all. I am good at english and it's quirks but there is always the barrier of it being my second language that prevents me from using the language in an engaging manner.
Also, Gabriel Garcia Marques (recently deceased) won a literature nobel prize, and according to him he had terrible ortography and grammar....
Also, Gabriel Garcia Marques (recently deceased) won a literature nobel prize, and according to him he had terrible ortography and grammar....
BigBoss
Your Local Scrub
Yeah I was attempting to show him a quick lesson show I could get to what I was doing. I didn't realize my typos', especially the many in the second story paragraph.
Also Walpknut, if you get into writing enough, you learn one thing. Now before I tell you this, I'm going to tell you it's common among many authors, but not all of them.
When you write a paragraph, or hell even write and entire novel or story without stopping, after your finished and you take the time to read it over (and this is even AFTER you correct your grammar and spelling), you realize you hate it. This happens with many authors. Some authors will write something and say that it's brilliant, but they are a select few, and 20% of the time it really isn't that brilliant, but mediocre actually.
When I wrote my first paragraph for my Fallout novel, and then corrected all the typos I could find, after reading I hated it. I even though about taking it down from NMA before anyone else could see it. But I kept getting good responses, even though I thought it was a generic shithole. This is a common way all writers think. After I found out people liked the first chapter, I wrote another one, and when they liked that one even more, I decided to finish the book. Three's three chapters I have now (the third not finished or released), but even now, the first chapter is still my least favorite, even after I had someone who loved literature tell me it was his favorite out of all of them. I could go into detail of why my first chapter is my least favorite, but that's a whole other story, and you'd have to read something you might not be interested in.
But, you get the idea.
Also Walpknut, if you get into writing enough, you learn one thing. Now before I tell you this, I'm going to tell you it's common among many authors, but not all of them.
When you write a paragraph, or hell even write and entire novel or story without stopping, after your finished and you take the time to read it over (and this is even AFTER you correct your grammar and spelling), you realize you hate it. This happens with many authors. Some authors will write something and say that it's brilliant, but they are a select few, and 20% of the time it really isn't that brilliant, but mediocre actually.
When I wrote my first paragraph for my Fallout novel, and then corrected all the typos I could find, after reading I hated it. I even though about taking it down from NMA before anyone else could see it. But I kept getting good responses, even though I thought it was a generic shithole. This is a common way all writers think. After I found out people liked the first chapter, I wrote another one, and when they liked that one even more, I decided to finish the book. Three's three chapters I have now (the third not finished or released), but even now, the first chapter is still my least favorite, even after I had someone who loved literature tell me it was his favorite out of all of them. I could go into detail of why my first chapter is my least favorite, but that's a whole other story, and you'd have to read something you might not be interested in.
But, you get the idea.
Akratus
Bleep bloop.
Got hold of some george rr martin envy yesterday, this being the result:
I think it's silly now, but do you guys have any commentary?
Turning around another corner, Gavriil Stathis, with the look of a kind monk, was making his way through the city’s upper streets. Packed close together, these alleyways were bustling lifelines for merchants and common folk alike. He was slightly hunched forward, not paying attention to the many faces he passed by. In a brown cloak he was completely unassuming. Most folk assumed he was a beggar rather than a monk. He walked on cheap slippers after all.
His hands were gripping one another, in his overhanging sleeves. To anyone who paid him any mind, they would assume him to be a religious man. In reality, Gavriil had never stepped foot inside a church or temple in his life. He was walking in a slow but steady pace, around another corner of grey stone. The cobblepaths of the city made for slow travel amongst the transportation to and from the harbors. Being the biggest port city on the planet, ----- was a busy place any time of the year.
With silver ornaments, nobody would question that this litter was the transport for a highly important person. A member of a one rich family that can afford a litter as ornate as this one. Carried by four servants, no less. Inside resides Katalin Orsoliya, daughter of RIkard Orsoliya, who owns every single one of the most important mines in the country. Silver mines in particular. This being the reason her daughter is carried in a litter so ornate with silver that one can hardly see the wood it is actually made of.
Every person on the streets made way for the litter, not wanting to be entangled with the muscled Orsoliya guardsmen that both lead the transport and followed it. They eyed the crowds for any suspicious behavior. They certainly had a way about them that makes one understand why they are Orsoliya guardsmen in the first place. But Gavriil does not budge. Once he eyes the litter even in the corner of his vision he stops moving altogether. He faces it, and doesn’t move a muscle.
At first Acro simply waved his hand. Gavriil stood silent. “Move out of the way, peasant.” He said to him sternly. Expecting him not to answer or to simply try to agitate him in silence, he moved closer, to forcefully shove him aside and not be delayed in his duties. With snakelike agility, Gavriil disappeared in what seemed like less than even a second. Acro blinked. It is movement he expected of no one but the city’s circus acrobats. Gavrill had stepped sideways in one alien movement, seemingly disappearing into the crowds. He was agast at not only the sudden disappearance of this man who so shortly before seemed intent on blocking his path but also at the fact that he would probably be unable to stop him if he moved for his Mistress Katalin with such speed as this.
A scream then came from inside the Litter. Acro was there in a short moment to grab the silver covering and throw it aside. There lay Katalin Orsoliya, a curved knife stuck in her chest. Blood was spurting out of the wond even now as Acro was even attempting to discern what he was seeing at all. There was a hole in the bottom of the litter. Someone had forced his way through it, and stabbed mistress Katalin. Acro knew it immediately. It was him. It was the monk. His calm face hided his destructive intentions. “The bald man! Where did he go? It was him!” Acro yelled to his colleague. A swift eying of the crowd revealed no one. People were scurrying off, hoping not to be accidentally implicated or even brought in as witnesses. Nobody wanted anything to do with this.
The guardsmen could do little but order the servants to pick up the litter once more, and rush them off to the nearest Orsoliya residence. Showering them in vocal threats as they went on.
Gavriil was meditating. Not on any spiritual matter but rather on the thought of his kill. After every such assassination it was custom for him to stop for a moment and take in his self-admiration and pride. He yet took on a seemingly spiritual meditating pose. He had espcaped the scene in short order, and made way for a safe place with time to spare. No doubt a location planned out prior to any of this. He stood up and looked behind him. There was a square gated latch. He pushed a most peculiar rusted key into it’s lock. With a twist the latch was made to rise and he entered as he did so. Who knows how far he skuled through the dank and dark tunnels of the underground system beneath the cold stone? After making it through the blackness of those ways he stood before a metal door.
He knocked and spoke: “Inequality. Precipitation. Facade.” He droned the three words that formed the unique password decided upon for this time. The door was unlocked with a clinking metal sound, before it slid open and Gavriil passed through. The door was locked, and he found himself amongst four others. The only light in the small, boxed room was the one candle in the middle.
“Is it done?”
“Quite so.”
His hands were gripping one another, in his overhanging sleeves. To anyone who paid him any mind, they would assume him to be a religious man. In reality, Gavriil had never stepped foot inside a church or temple in his life. He was walking in a slow but steady pace, around another corner of grey stone. The cobblepaths of the city made for slow travel amongst the transportation to and from the harbors. Being the biggest port city on the planet, ----- was a busy place any time of the year.
With silver ornaments, nobody would question that this litter was the transport for a highly important person. A member of a one rich family that can afford a litter as ornate as this one. Carried by four servants, no less. Inside resides Katalin Orsoliya, daughter of RIkard Orsoliya, who owns every single one of the most important mines in the country. Silver mines in particular. This being the reason her daughter is carried in a litter so ornate with silver that one can hardly see the wood it is actually made of.
Every person on the streets made way for the litter, not wanting to be entangled with the muscled Orsoliya guardsmen that both lead the transport and followed it. They eyed the crowds for any suspicious behavior. They certainly had a way about them that makes one understand why they are Orsoliya guardsmen in the first place. But Gavriil does not budge. Once he eyes the litter even in the corner of his vision he stops moving altogether. He faces it, and doesn’t move a muscle.
At first Acro simply waved his hand. Gavriil stood silent. “Move out of the way, peasant.” He said to him sternly. Expecting him not to answer or to simply try to agitate him in silence, he moved closer, to forcefully shove him aside and not be delayed in his duties. With snakelike agility, Gavriil disappeared in what seemed like less than even a second. Acro blinked. It is movement he expected of no one but the city’s circus acrobats. Gavrill had stepped sideways in one alien movement, seemingly disappearing into the crowds. He was agast at not only the sudden disappearance of this man who so shortly before seemed intent on blocking his path but also at the fact that he would probably be unable to stop him if he moved for his Mistress Katalin with such speed as this.
A scream then came from inside the Litter. Acro was there in a short moment to grab the silver covering and throw it aside. There lay Katalin Orsoliya, a curved knife stuck in her chest. Blood was spurting out of the wond even now as Acro was even attempting to discern what he was seeing at all. There was a hole in the bottom of the litter. Someone had forced his way through it, and stabbed mistress Katalin. Acro knew it immediately. It was him. It was the monk. His calm face hided his destructive intentions. “The bald man! Where did he go? It was him!” Acro yelled to his colleague. A swift eying of the crowd revealed no one. People were scurrying off, hoping not to be accidentally implicated or even brought in as witnesses. Nobody wanted anything to do with this.
The guardsmen could do little but order the servants to pick up the litter once more, and rush them off to the nearest Orsoliya residence. Showering them in vocal threats as they went on.
Gavriil was meditating. Not on any spiritual matter but rather on the thought of his kill. After every such assassination it was custom for him to stop for a moment and take in his self-admiration and pride. He yet took on a seemingly spiritual meditating pose. He had espcaped the scene in short order, and made way for a safe place with time to spare. No doubt a location planned out prior to any of this. He stood up and looked behind him. There was a square gated latch. He pushed a most peculiar rusted key into it’s lock. With a twist the latch was made to rise and he entered as he did so. Who knows how far he skuled through the dank and dark tunnels of the underground system beneath the cold stone? After making it through the blackness of those ways he stood before a metal door.
He knocked and spoke: “Inequality. Precipitation. Facade.” He droned the three words that formed the unique password decided upon for this time. The door was unlocked with a clinking metal sound, before it slid open and Gavriil passed through. The door was locked, and he found himself amongst four others. The only light in the small, boxed room was the one candle in the middle.
“Is it done?”
“Quite so.”
I think it's silly now, but do you guys have any commentary?
SnapSlav
NMA's local DotA fanatic
It's just my personal method, but I would begin with singling out (and ultimately removing) any and all passive wording.
To start with just the first paragraph, notice how many opportunities it provides you to rewrite each sentence in a different fashion:
Did you notice that I found passive language in all but one sentence (and an imcomplete sentence, but let's pay that no heed right now), and how that one exception stood out from the rest? Even the difference between saying not "was better" but rather "stood out" exemplifies the presentation of passive and active language. The line "paths of the city made for slow travel among the transportation to and from" still has errors and room for improvement, but it sounds engaging, unlike the rest with its "was" and "to do" and "-ing" after "-ing". That just reads too descriptive and... well for lack of a more definitive term, passive! As I mentioned earlier, the first time I brought this up, it's like stating the difference between "the mountains were tall" versus "their peaks stretched into the sky", obviously (besides waxing poetic) one engages more than the other. It's not to say that you CANNOT use passive language at any time, but that it's a good practice to hunt down and eliminate as much of it as possible, and to strive to limiting yourself to one instance per paragraph.
This is all just 1 point, mind you. There's much more that the writing invites itself to addressing, but that's as far as I'll take it, for now. It's a place to start.
To start with just the first paragraph, notice how many opportunities it provides you to rewrite each sentence in a different fashion:
Did you notice that I found passive language in all but one sentence (and an imcomplete sentence, but let's pay that no heed right now), and how that one exception stood out from the rest? Even the difference between saying not "was better" but rather "stood out" exemplifies the presentation of passive and active language. The line "paths of the city made for slow travel among the transportation to and from" still has errors and room for improvement, but it sounds engaging, unlike the rest with its "was" and "to do" and "-ing" after "-ing". That just reads too descriptive and... well for lack of a more definitive term, passive! As I mentioned earlier, the first time I brought this up, it's like stating the difference between "the mountains were tall" versus "their peaks stretched into the sky", obviously (besides waxing poetic) one engages more than the other. It's not to say that you CANNOT use passive language at any time, but that it's a good practice to hunt down and eliminate as much of it as possible, and to strive to limiting yourself to one instance per paragraph.
This is all just 1 point, mind you. There's much more that the writing invites itself to addressing, but that's as far as I'll take it, for now. It's a place to start.
AskWazzup
Sonny, I Watched the Vault Bein' Built!
All this talk about was or he said, but what i'm interested about as someone who aspires to be something of a music composer one day, is structure on macro and micro scale. I'm interested how writers structure their creations into a coherent whole and not get lost in incoherences (which many of them i am sure do). How do they join different parts, to what extent they keep tabs on the relation between sections, paragraphs, sentences and what are the "rules" of the whole structuring affair.
welsh
Junkmaster
Hey Folks, long-timer visitor who has been gone awhile. I am thinking about doing fiction again, and even have been thinking about a story that is somewhat related to Fallout or the Morrow Project. Most of the writing I am doing is academic. Fiction writing is probably more about revision at this point.